Revolutionary Shadows: Part One: Past or Present
by enragedpurple
Summary: (Part One of my story, the rest will follow separately) Richard is the prince that has been forgotten. Reaver is the immortal that has seen it all and learned to block emotions. Heartbreak, nightmares and tragedy strike both and soon they turn to each other. MaleXMale, Male!Prince, Male!Sparrow.
1. Part One: Past Or Present

_**Author's Note: This story has been in the works for close to a year now. I am almost done with it, and now I am simply going back and editing the parts that need to be fixed and all the screwed up plot points. This was originally going to be a fairly short fic, but as you can probably guess, has gotten longer and longer. I want to explain a few things to you guys first -**_

_**Age wise, I originally had Richard as an eight year old kid in the first part of this story, making Logan about 14. Then I realized how wrong it was for me to.. well, you'll see when I post some of the later chapters. So, now I changed it so that Richard is 15 and Logan 17, as of now. Their ages will change over the course of the story, however.**_

_**Another thing (sort of a warning): There is MaleXMale in this story - Reaver and lots of male characters (I can't say much because that would give away the story) But, my point is - IF YOU DON'T LIKE THAT, THEN DON'T READ THIS STORY!**_

_**Other than that, I plan on posting a chapter a week, hopefully. So, enjoy!**_

Part One

Chapter One – Rumor Has It

"So you called me here on account of your health?" A sneering voice demanded. A few steps accompanied by a cane could be heard then, a soft sigh escaping one pair of lips.

"Yes, Reaver. As a matter of fact, there is something more important than tearing down Hero's Hill," A heroic, deep voice retorted to the first, authority dripping from each word. The first voice, now known as Reaver, snorted childishly.

"Oh, don't tell me you actually had fond memories of that dreadful place, dear king?" Reaver laughed through his words, but then stopped short. He sighed again, the reluctance in the action audible even through a wall. "Fine, fine. I'll make a little memorial in your name. Would that make you happy?" Reaver offered, amending his previous condescending statement.

"That is not why I called you here, Reaver," The King stated, his voice sounding cross. Anyone could tell in his voice that he was annoyed. Before Reaver could even respond, the King was seized by a fit of coughs. A few stumbled steps could be heard, another set leaping to help him. The coughs stopped, a sharp snap ringing out as Reaver was no doubt pushed away harshly.

"Sparrow –"

"Don't call me that," The King sneered, the sigh of a cushion signaling he had sat down. A few steps and similar sigh could be heard as Reaver sat as well. A thick silence brewed in the air then, even their silent listener able to feel the tension.

"Why am I here then, King?" Reaver finally spoke, breaking the awkwardness between them. The king coughed once before answering.

"I realize we've never seen eye to eye, Reaver," The king began, his voice deep and somber. Someone shifted in their chair, most likely Reaver. "But, now I need you at my side again, Reaver," The King delivered his comment, and anyone would have had the brains to answer immediately. However, Reaver seemed to dwell on the words, letting them swim around in his head.

"_Now_, after all these years apart, and after the way we parted?" Reaver finally asked, his voice more serious than it had been all night.

"I realize this is not the most _convenient_ time to ask," The King replied before being stopped by another fit of coughs. "But as you can tell, I am limited on time," He finished in a gruff voice.

"That," Reaver began as he could be heard getting up, "would be an understatement," He hissed, his footsteps coming closer to the door. Their silent on-looker lurched away, ready to hide in the shadows at any second.

"Reaver, don't tell me you still hold feelings about that," The King shouted after him, stopping the man effectively in his tracks. He'd begun to open the door, and now their eavesdropper could see Reaver through a good sized opening he had provided.

The man was dressed in white, his trench coat matching with a rough black trim around his neck. His under-vest was a deep brown, the buttons on both the coat and vest a matching gold. In his hand was a large black top hat, his fist clenched around it angrily.

Just as soon as all silence had fallen on them, noise erupted once again. Reaver whirled on the King, a gun in his hand in the blink of an eye. The King threw his hands up, his face showing no sign of stopping his guest. Instead, he simply backed away as Reaver made to get closer.

"Have you forgotten who I am, Dear King?" Reaver sneered, waving the gun in the air madly. Looking through the crack, the scene seemed a perfect description of imagery.

Reaver, adorned in white with his heart on his cheek, pointed the master gun at the King. In turn, the King was donned in regal blue and complimenting gold. His brown hair barely scraped his shoulders, his bright hazel eyes analytical. He'd paled, and that was the first thing the on-looker noticed.

"How could I ever do that, Reaver?" The King replied, his features softening dramatically. He seemed to have a soft spot for the man that was currently pointing a gun at him.

"It seemed simple enough when you walked out all those years ago," Reaver retorted, his voice sharp and calculated. The Kings' eyes showed no emotion for a brief second, but then pity found the hazel orbs.

"You've actually begun to feel, haven't you, Reaver?" The King asked, almost taunting before he doubled over in another fit. Reaver lowered his gun, strapping it back to his hip.

"And you have grown old and weak, have you not, dear King?" Reaver replied as the King wheezed to a stop. Reaver shifted his weight to one hip as he watched the King. The Kings' eyes shifted for a second, unaware of just how much emotion he was revealing.

"But yet I live, Reaver. I am not an empty shadow, doomed for eternity. I have truly lived and have been happy. When was the last time you smiled and _meant_ it?" The King asked, straightening to his full height that could intimidate almost anyone except Reaver, as the situation proved. Reaver straightened as well, a forced smile finding his face. The King sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Not what I meant, Reaver," The King scolded, getting Reaver to sag his shoulders and let the smile fall off his face.

"You really do know how to negotiate with someone," Reaver taunted in a sarcastic tone of voice. He walked back towards the seating area, sitting with a bit of attitude. The King eyed him warily, neither noticing the door was still open. Their spy crept closer, looking in and finally being able to put a picture to their words.

"Do you even want to know what I wanted anymore?" The King asked, sitting across from Reaver casually. Their body language had softened, not angry with each other any longer. Some hidden past had come back to them, the thought softening both.

"If it involves anymore of this pointless arguing, I believe I will shoot you," Reaver mumbled in a light tone of voice. The Kings' shoulder shook with a short bout of laughter. That changed to coughing in the next instant, causing him to politely turn away from Reaver.

"And I should think I would let you," The King grumbled gruffly. Reaver's eyes flickered with concern for the briefest of seconds before professionalism took over again.

"Never say that," Reaver mumbled, shocking the King into looking at him with wide eyes. "As much joy as the action would give me, I'd rather not live behind bars," Reaver ended what began as a sweet statement with an almost vulgar one. The King let a loud chuckle escape his lips briefly, before he got back on subject.

"As you can tell, I am not at my fittest anymore," The King said in a dreadful tone of voice. The observer felt their heart leap into their throat at his words. Reaver's head dropped at his words, but the man said nothing. "So, I need you to watch over my children, help Logan run the Kingdom when it comes his time to do so," The King watched in silence as everything froze.

Time seemed to stop at the weight of his words. Reaver's breath hitched in his chest, mimicking the unseen action of the watcher. Before any more could be said, Reaver was standing again.

"Why me? Why not your precious Hammer or that odd man, Garth?" Reaver asked, pacing towards the door and allowing the watcher a glimpse of well masked worry lacing his perfect features.

"We both know Hammer hates giving advice, and Garth is just too distant. Reaver," The King stood and grabbed the man's arm as he stopped pacing. Their eyes met in a million emotions, the gaze intense. "I chose you because I trust you the most. We had something all those years ago, and now I wish to see you get what you've always wanted," His hand fell from Reaver's shoulder, instead hovering by his clenched fist.

"And what would that be, dear Sparrow?" Reaver questioned, and this time the King did not correct his name. He said nothing of the fact that he had long ago given up the childhood name. All he did was let the words ring into the air as he stared down into Reaver's eyes with his hand mere inches away from the other mans'.

"I think we both know the answer to that question, Pirate King," The words came out whispered, as if a hushed reminder of what used to be. It seemed to be a sad remembrance of the past they had long lost.

"I already have everything, what more could I want?" Reaver replied, his hands unclenching. Their fingers brushed, sending electric signals down their bodies and through the air. Both men felt it, averting their eyes to their hands for the briefest of seconds. Then, the gaze resumed and raw emotion was in the air once again.

The observer gasped lightly, seeing the scene unfold before him. Quickly, his mind rambled with ways he could help. This was bad, this was really, really –

"How long have you been there, Richard?" The King asked as a slight creak emanated from the door. The teen gasped and tried to duck back into the shadows. The King chuckled while Reaver shot him a look that seemed to say "This is what you raised?" The teen poked his head out at the sound of his father's laughter, then being beckoned into the room.

He walked in sheepishly, hiding behind a thick head of brown hair. He scurried to his father's side, looking to him in silent apology.

"How long were you there?" He questioned again, looking to the sheepish fifteen year old with a hidden disappointment in his eyes. The boy mumbled something, to which the King eyed him meaningfully.

"The whole time, Papa," The boy whispered, his body beginning to tremble with fear. The King patted him on the shoulder in an attempt to comfort, watching as Reaver eyed the child warily.

"You would willingly have such a timid, sniveling beast?" Reaver sneered, ducking from the smack the King attempted to give.

"Do not talk about my son that way," The King's voice boomed, the threat evident in all that the king was worth. The boy buried closer to his father, so scared he could no longer shake it. The fear at his fathers' words had him petrified.

"Right, well, I'll be going then," Reaver murmured, backing slowly away. With a flip of his wrist, the top hat was on his head and his back was turned to the both of them.

"No, stay," The King demanded, moving away from the boy as he grabbed for Reaver's arm again. The boy prince shifted away, moving away until he could scurry down the hall. The King looked after him for a moment before turning his attention back to Reaver.

"We'll talk about this later," The King stated, his eyes burning. Reaver shrugged free of his grasp, his brown eyes showing no emotion. He was back to his old self.

"No, No _Little Bird_, we're finishing this now," Reaver deliver arrogantly, stepping in front of the king as he made to go after the boy. He met the Skill Hero's eyes vehemently.

"Will you take the offer or not, Reaver?" The King asked, pulling free in a harsh action. Reaver smirked at the action. His eyebrows arching under his top hat.

"Show me this 'boy' you speak so highly of, and I'll see what doom you have bestowed on your kingdom," Reaver sneered, his words shooting right to the king. The man looked away, once again looking down the regally decorated hallway. Richard was long gone, probably still shaking from Reaver's comment.

"You lay one wrong hand on either of them, Reaver, and you will not have to worry about me being dead. I will come back and haunt you," The king growled, his eyes burning with the threat and promise of his words.

"Yes, and we all know that Hollow Men have fared so well against me," Reaver chuckled, twirling on his heel and almost gliding towards the door. "Come along, don't want your dear boy to spread horrible rumors about me."


	2. Gunshot

_**Author's Note: So, yeah, this chapter ended up getting typed and edited really fast. I decided to post it today, simply because I know that with school coming back tomorrow, I will have less time to type than I did this weekend. So, here ya have it - enjoy!**_

Chapter Two – Gunshot

Richard made his way through the long hallways and back to his room. Well, the room he still shared with Logan. He had to admit that while they lived in such a large castle, he had no idea why they still shared a room. Logan had voiced his opinion about it more than once, only to be silenced by their father with a scolding look or harsh reprimand. So, they had dealt with it.

Now, the prince just hoped that Logan wasn't there to see him tremble with fear. That Reaver man that papa had been talking with was odd and cruel, but obviously papa trusted him. So, why shouldn't he as well? Oh, yeah, because he was still only a child in his father's eyes and, to Reaver, a "timid, sniveling beast."

Richard finally made it to the shared room and flopped down onto the bed. He buried his face into the welcoming silk and wanted nothing more than to vanish. If Logan got the throne, he was basically done anyway. What was the point of a second prince if you already had a king?

"_You're just as special, Richard, never forget that,"_ His mother would have said. But she wasn't here. So now it was just him and his depressing thoughts, watching as her memory faded away.

Now, he was remembering that year. His mother had been sick for a while but no one had been the wiser. They had all thought that because the king was stupid enough to marry a peasant from Oakfield that it was just some peasant thing. Of course, the king knew better. He had done everything in his power, but in the end, she died of tuberculosis. It had been a gruesome death indeed, but the king had watched it all. He had refused to leave her bedside, even when the doctors had warned him that the disease was contagious.

He had scoffed at their words, practically laughed in their faces. They'd walked away, content to watch their Queen die and allow their King to suffer whatever fate he wished. They seemed content to watch as the whole family fell, for reasons Richard had been too young to think of then.

King Lionheart, as most seemed content to call him, had sacrificed everything for the people of Albion. Richard had heard over his short years that his father had had a family before him – a wife and three children – who had all been killed by Lucien. Now, he was watching as his second wife prepared to die of a measly disease he could do nothing to stop.

When she had finally passed, the king withdrew to his room for months. His children were left on their own, both young enough to want comfort but Logan old enough to know better. So, Logan had held Richard back and they allowed their father his distance. Months passed, and soon it had been half a year.

Logan had taken up rule, but as soon as his father stepped out of the room, he relinquished his hold. The king was all smiles, but an underlying difference was hidden in him. Depression was subtle in his eyes, but his smiles towards his children seemed completely real. They fell into a pattern after that, the family slowly balancing out and the kingdom getting back up on its' feet.

And now they were here, in the present as Richard shivered on his bed in a ball of under-aged fear. The fear had morphed to depression now, all at the thought of his mother. He wanted her warm embrace with her genuine smile that made everything melt away. She could make it all better, all with a mother's warm love.

"What are you whining about now?" Logan questioned as he walked into the room with a sneer on his face. His lanky teenage body didn't quite fit, but it gave him the illusion of authority. Richard pulled his head from the blanket to meet Logan's cold, analytical gaze.

"Why should you care, Logan?" Richard sneered, folding himself completely onto the bed as he straightened into a cross-legged sitting position. Logan chuckled dryly, walking to his side of the room as he shrugged Richard's comment off.

"Do you think I am really that heartless, brother?" Logan teased, sitting on his bed in an offhanded manner that got under Richard's skin at exactly the right place. Richard squirmed in anxiety, looking to his older brother who stared back at him with harsh, cold eyes.

"You haven't ever given me a reason to think otherwise," Richard retorted, trying to get smart with him. He was fifteen and had never uttered a word wrong to his seventeen year old brother. He thought it due time that he started to test his boundaries and slowly move out of his shell everyone so disapproved of.

"Getting a tongue on you, finally, I see," He smirked, a small laugh escaping along with his words. He fell back on his bed, staring at the ceiling as he proceeded to pretend Richard did not exist. "So, I heard you spied on dad today," Logan stated nonchalantly. Richard inhaled sharply, staring at Logan's profile with distaste.

"H-How did you –"

"Know about that?" Logan finished the younger prince's sentence, his deep brown eyes flaring to the shocked hazel ones. "Dad wasn't exactly quiet about it. Those meetings are highly confidential," Logan taunted, the joy he was getting out of this evident in every word he spoke.

"Logan, you have to swear not to tell anyone!" Richard leapt up from the bed, flying to Logan's side. The dark teenager's smirk grew, his dark eyes smiling evilly.

"So it is true? I was just testing you," Logan laughed, a cackle sound at best. It sent shivers down Richard's spine.

"You're a monster, Logan!" He shouted, punching a fist into Logan's side as he leapt away from the bed. He took off running down the hall, hearing the heavy footsteps of his brother come thundering after him. He half-smiled to himself as he rounded a corner and lost the ability to hear Logan. He figured he finally out ran him, but then that theory proved wrong.

Logan was suddenly in front of the younger prince, pushing him against the wall. Richard gasped, his eyes scanning frantically for an escape.

"What the hell was that?" Logan growled, punching the prince harshly in the stomach. Richard double over as he clutched his middle, a groan escaping his lips. More and more punches landed on him and he cringed with each one.

"Ha, you will make a cowardly king indeed," Another voice suddenly declared, getting both boys to look down the hall in shock. There stood none other than the cocky Reaver, one hand perched on his cane and the other on his hip. He was watching both boys equally, scanning over each with hard eyes that made Richard cringe again.

"I've tried to tell him this –" Logan began, only to be cut off by Reaver's obnoxious laugh.

"No, no, Boy, I meant you," He sneered, his cane suddenly pressed against Logan's chest. The teen started to protest, only to be pushed easily against the wall next to his brother. Logan's normally collected eyes suddenly widened with what appeared to be a shred of fear and Richard watched beside him with disbelief.

"How am I –" Reaver's hand was over the boy's mouth, a disapproving look on his face. He pushed the cane further against the teens chest, tilting it at such an angle that the golden claw handle finally pressed under Logan's chin. Still with one hand over the teen's mouth, he pushed the pale head up with a forceful movement from the cane under Logan's chin.

"If you do not know the answer to that question, dear boy, then I cannot help you," Reaver sneered, pushing the boy off the wall with his cane in one sudden movement. Logan stumbled forward, tripping over Richard who had moved in the conversation. Richard cringed, scrambling away before Logan could do him any more harm. Logan cast him a particularly horrible glare, and before he knew that his body was moving, he was beside Reaver with one hand clenched on the man's jacket.

"This isn't any of your business!" Logan shouted, blush heating his face at the now embarrassing situation. He looked to Richard to finally understand a bit of what humiliation was, and that satisfied the younger teen greatly.

"Oh, contraire young prince. This is every bit my business," Reaver smiled, one of his gloved hands straightening his top hat. His other hand twirled his cane, his whole demeanor condescending.

"But…" Logan stuttered for something to say, and suddenly his finger pointed to Richard. "It's his fault! He was the one who was spying! And now it'll be his fault if father dies!" Logan whined, acting as if he was not 17, but instead 7. Reaver scoffed as Richard cringed, hiding behind him even more.

"Oh? And how does that logic work?" Reaver questioned, pulling away from the teen to walk over to the elder. Logan had straightened by now, but his height was no intimidation to Reaver. That was partly because of his hat, but then again, his ego was big enough as it was.

"What?" Logan stuttered, his eyes narrowing in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Hm, what I mean is," Reaver leaned down just barely, hovering over the teen's shoulders, "if you are to be the king, an attitude adjustment might be in order. As well as," Reaver leaned further in and grabbed one end of Logan's sleeve, "A wardrobe change."

Reaver pulled away and turned his back to the prince. With both hands folded over his cane, he started to count down from three. As if by magic, Logan turned around on the count of three and left with a defeated huff. Reaver smirked as he came back to Richard's side, stopping to look at the ruffed up boy. His brow furrowed a bit, but otherwise he said nothing.

"Thank you, Mister," Richard stated, giving a slight bow before he winced in pain.

"Tell me, do you always allow your brother that victory?" Reaver questioned, looking down to the young teen with interest in his answer. The teen blinked in confusion before he finally understood the man's words.

"I know it's not a victory. So long as he values his reputation, he will go no further than a punch. That is hardly a beating," Richard stated in a small voice, unsure if that was the right answer. He sounded awfully shy for his age, but that had always been his way. Now, he watched the taller man carefully, waiting to see what unpredictable action he would bring next. Reaver let out a breath, extending one hand to land on the boy's slight shoulder.

"A very good answer, boy, but not the one I expected," Reaver's dark eyes met his in a silent smile, but his lips stayed still. "And with that logic, you will get yourself killed," Reaver finished, his eyes glinting with what appeared to be excitement.

"I have no intention of doing anything reckless," Richard retorted, semi-aware of how close they were. He was only about the height of Reaver's jaw, and so his breath was creeping up the man's neck. In turn, Reaver's was flooding his face.

"you're in for a shock then, boy," Reaver mumbled, his grip loosening on the boys' shoulder. Richard shifted then, unaware of just how sensual the situation had turned. He pulled free, watching the man for any sign that was not friendly. Instead, the man gave him a slight smile before continuing.

"I suggest you start taking your sword lessons more seriously," Reaver stated bluntly. He turned to go, but as he did, his jacket bellowed out and revealed his gun. Without thinking, Richard moved and placed his hand on the man's hip, his fingers gently touching the gun.

"The sword is not my style, but father refuses to let me choose," Richard explained, watching as Reaver lifted his arm to look at his gun and the boys' hand. His eyes held interest and a flame of attraction as his memories spun around in his head.

"Well, why don't you give it a shot, then?" Reaver offered, allowing the boy to loosen the gun from his hip. Richard smiled, holding the gun delicately, watching as Reaver's smirk grew.

"No, don't hold it like that," Reaver corrected, coming to stand behind the boy as he took his gun once again into his own hand. He held it as was natural to him, then allowing Richard to mimic the action. The lean body pressed up against Reaver's as they aimed the gun down the hallway and suddenly the man felt utterly alone.

Not once in his long immortal life had he thought he would want a child – such gruesome beasts. But now, with the boy against him as he rattled off pointers, he couldn't feel more at home. There was this new "sense" pricking in his head as he watched the boy get over his beating and a smile spread across his features.

A loud gunshot went off, both watching as the bullet crashed through a windowpane. Richard stumbled back into Reaver's arms as he started to laugh. Reaver chuckled along with the boy as he took his gun from the teen's trembling hands.

This boy was an exact image of Sparrow.

_**Author's Ending Note: You may interpret the line "Not once in his long immortal life had he thought he would want a child" as you may. Originally this was written with Richard being only eight years old, so just keep that in mind.**_

_**Other than that, I don't have much to say. Thanks for reading! Please review! :D**_


	3. How Far One Will Go

_**Author's Note: So, this is the rewrite for chapter three. I hope you guys will enjoy it!**_

_**Also, Reaver does speak french at one point, so if any of you do not know french (like myself XD) here is what it translates to:  
**Mon moineau: My Sparrow**  
**_

Chapter Three – How Far One Will Go

"Sparrow, you need to let the boy choose his own style."

Reaver followed the pacing King through the hallways of the castle, watching as the birds' brow furrowed in concentration. He remembered times when he could kiss that frustration away –

"The sword is his best chance, Reaver."

"No, it's not. If you'd have been there yesterday–"

"He shot a _window_, Reaver. Anyone can do that," The king was indignant, refusing to accept that Reaver might be right. The pirate supposed it was his petty jealousy, but then again, the bird always did have emotions that were hard to read. Reaver watched as the king began to pace again, his pace picking up. Before he could take more than a few steps, Reaver snatched his wrist forcefully.

"_Stop_ doing that, My Liege," Reaver sneered the title in a mocking way, getting Sparrow to glare to him slightly. The king did, however, follow Reaver's instruction and stop pacing, yanking his arm from Reaver's grip.

"Why are you so bent on insuring that Richard receives training in marksmanship?" Sparrow asked curiously, still glaring to the pirate. Reaver shifted his weight to lean against his cane, smirking up to the bird in an arrogant way.

"He seemed absolutely _miserable_ when he talked of his sword lessons. I even watched him this morning – he was just _dreadful_."

"You don't care about anyone but yourself, Reaver," Sparrow sneered, obviously disbelieving the pirate's words. Reaver sighed, admitting to himself that he should have come up with a better reason than that.

"Oh, contraire _mon moineau,_" Reaver smiled, watching as Sparrow winced at the familiar nickname. He made to comment on it before he was abruptly cut off.

"Papa!" Richard came around the corner, smiling as he raced towards the two adults. For a boy of fifteen, he was surprisingly still full of childish wonder. Reaver could see that Sparrow never wanted his child to grow out of it – he always wanted Richard to have a fascination with the world.

"What is it, Richard – why the bloody hell do you have a dog with you?" Sparrow cut his own question off, looking to his son incredulously as Richard laughed wholeheartedly. He scooped the black and white mop of a dog into his arms, getting licked affectionately on his face. Those only made him laugh harder before he handed the dog to his father. Sparrow took the animal with startled arms, still waiting for an explanation.

"The cook's dog just gave birth and he offered one to Logan and I. Logan shot his down, but I wanted one! Can I keep him, papa? Can I? Can I?" Richard asked each question with growing enthusiasm, his eyes wide and childish. Reaver watched with an entertained expression on his face as the dog began to lick the kings' face, only to have the king hold him away at an arms' length. Richard laughed lightly, getting a small smirk and chuckle out of Reaver.

"Richard, what do you need with a dog? They–" The king cut himself off once again, listening to the whines the dog was making from his arms. He grumbled a curse under his breath before forcefully handing the dog back to his son. "You will be responsible for it and–"

"Yes! Thank you, Papa! Thank you!" Richard jumped up with excitement, holding the dog tightly in his arms. He set it down on the ground, rubbing its' small head before he took off at an easy sprint. The dog trotted alongside him, barking happily as its' tongue hung out from his mouth lazily.

"What are you going to name him?" Sparrow shouted after the boy.

"River!" Richard shouted out, the dog barking along to his new name. Richard had turned while running, smiling back to his father as he answered. Without turning around, he vanished around a corner and his laughter faded into the distance.

"He sure has a lot of energy," Reaver noted dryly. Sparrow nodded, running a hand through his hair in an almost flustered way. Reaver chuckled lightly, thinking to himself how grateful he was that he did not have any children of his own.

"They said he would grow out of that phase when I signed up for this," Sparrow joked lightly, turning away and continuing to walk down the hallway. Reaver shifted his weight from his cane and began to follow the king, watching him carefully.

"So, about those marksmanship lessons," Reaver trailed off, startled to a stop as Sparrow whirled to face him again.

"It is not happening, Reaver. I don't know why you're pressing the matter. You–"

"I'll be his teacher."

Silence filled the space between the two men, Sparrow eyeing the pirate oddly. Reaver didn't flinch – didn't show any sign that those words were not _at all_ what he had meant to say. He had never had any intention of signing up for any time with the adolescent, but now he had blurted it out and it sat out in the open.

"You'll _what_?" Sparrow finally asked, looking to Reaver with clear disbelief in his eyes. Reaver hesitated for a moment before finally seeming to catch up with his words and respond.

"I _am_ the Hero of Skill. Is there really any better option?" Once again, the words came out of his mouth without his meaning them to. He mentally cursed his big mouth, somehow still managing to keep a straight face. He could see Sparrow's brow furrowing, knowing then that the bird knew that something was up. He hated how well the bird still knew him.

"Right," Sparrow began to walk again, almost as if he was abandoning the conversation. Reaver stayed still for a second more before following him once again, watching the king carefully. He knew when the bird was thinking, and he was clearly doing just that right now. His shoulders were hunched slightly and his eyebrows were still knitted close together, his eyes focusing ahead blankly.

"Sparrow?" Reaver finally dared to snap the kings' attention away from his thoughts, effectively stopping the king yet again in his tracks.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes."

"You're not just making this all up?"

"Why would I want to do that?"

"Why do you _want_ to do anything?"

Reaver paused, their banter dying in the air. Sparrow continued to watch him, blue eyes dancing in the stained light that splintered through the windows.

"You and I both know that Logan will not be able to hold the throne. Richard needs to be ready. And you said yourself that I was to watch out for the boys," Reaver began to walk away, twirling his cane in one hand. A smirk found his lips as he glanced back over his shoulder to the king, waiting to see his response.

"If you hurt him –"

"No need to warn me. I have no intention to see how far you are willing to go."


	4. Promises Made and Promises Broken

_**Author's Note: Sorry that this is probably a little shorter in length than the others - for some reason, this chapter just did not like me. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!**_

Chapter Four – Promises Made and Promises Broken

Richard sat laughing in the sun, leaning back against a huge oak tree with River in his lap. The dog was barking happily, black and white ears flapping with each bob of his head. Richard smiled to him fondly and slowly moved to get up. The dog bounded from his lap and stared up at his new master eagerly.

"Ready boy?" Richard laughed, reaching down and grabbing a small stick by his feet. Seeing the object, the dog's eyes dilated and he went completely still. Richard laughed as he threw the object, watching as the dog vanished after it.

He leaned back against the tree with his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes wandered to the sky, watching as each puff of white cloud floated across the blue expanse. He pushed his short bangs out of his face, cursing the length of his hair absentmindedly.

He wondered if he would ever be able to shoot again. He had never even held a real gun in his hands until yesterday, and that was a Dragonstomper! He could still hardly believe himself when he thought that. He wanted to know if he would ever be able to convince his father that he really was horrible at swords and better at guns. He wanted his father to understand. That was all.

"Anything in particular you are thinking of, boy?" Richard jumped at the sudden voice, pushing away from the tree to whirl in the direction it had come from. His eyes landed on Reaver and he immediately relaxed.

"What are you doing here, Mister?" Richard asked, shrinking back into his shell he always seemed to hide in when strangers were about. Reaver sighed lightly, seeing then that he had a lot more work to do than he thought. He took a few steps forward, coming to lean against the tree next to Richard.

"Where's the mutt?"

"Over there wrestling a stick," Richard pointed, a small smile finding his lips. Reaver watched and saw then the small black dot on the horizon in one of the smaller gardens.

"Did you _throw_ the stick all that distance?"

"Yes. Why?" Richard angled to face the man while still leaning against the tree, his eyes scanning the pirate in confusion.

"I don't know of a single person other than your father who could throw something that far. Well, except a _troll_ I once had the horrible 'pleasure' of conducting business with. She was something else, that woman. I believe she called herself something along the lines of… hmm, what was it… _Mace_… no, no… _Hammer!_ That was it. Yes, dreadful woman if ever there was one."

Reaver rambled, examining the horizon as he spoke. His hazel eyes caught the sunlight in impossible ways, creating colors the prince had hardly thought existed. Reaver looked away then, beginning to twirl his cane in his hand.

"But enough of old memories, it's on to the new ones," Reaver pushed off the tree and faced Richard completely, turning his back to the horizon. He ended up framed in a halo of golden light, splintering around him and making him almost glow gold. "I am here to teach you marksmanship."

Richard's jaw dropped.

"What? Really?" He leapt forward, almost crashing into the pirate had Reaver been less agile. Instead, the pirate managed to sidestep out of the way, watching as Richard stumbled forward an extra step.

"Hmm, yes," Reaver eyed the boy with a small hint of disgust. He really was going to be a lot of work, assuming that he could ever learn where his own two feet belonged.

"Did father agree? Did you even ask father?"

"I made a promise with him, in fact. He seems to think that swords really are better, even though I strongly disagree. He always was one for a bit more carnage than I was."

"You promised him? What did you promise?" Richard's hopes began to sink, knowing then that his father had probably created a million loopholes for the pirate to fail in. Reaver's smile widened, however, and he began to twirl his cane in his hand again.

"You are to come and live with me for the next three months and receive special training. At the end of those three months, you are to either fight me or your father – that much is your choice. Assuming you somehow beat one of us, you get to continue your training with me."

Richard remained still for a moment more before all that the pirate said finally caught up with him. His eyes widened and a smile spread across his face.

"Let's do it!" He shouted, jumping into the air with excitement written in every fiber of his body. Reaver smirked as he watched the boy. Richard moved to call for River, watched as the dog bounded back over to its' master. River barked happily, gladly being scooped up into Richard's arms as the teen began to jabber excitedly to it.

"There will be rules, however," Reaver stated, effectively getting the boy to stop and look at him. Richard held the dog close to his chest, both staring at Reaver with silently pleading eyes. "The mutt there will not be allowed into my study or bedroom. Any mud or other such nonsense he brings in with him, that is your responsibility to clean up. Also, your father insists that you teach him how to fight – assuming that something that small _can_ fight."

Richard began to laugh, reaching down and scooping River into his arms. He hugged the dog tight, getting a small bark out of the creature. Reaver watched, a small hint of amusement in his eyes. Suddenly, Richard set the dog down and bounded over to Reaver, crashing into the man and hugging him tight.

"Thank you, sir! So much! You won't regret this!"

Before Reaver could respond, Richard was off of him and bounding down the path, shouting and jabbering excitedly to his dog. Reaver blinked in shock, running his hands over his clothes in an attempt to straighten them once more.

"Yes, let's hope that's true."


	5. Took A Life Today

_**Author's Note: Two chapters in one day? You're probably as shocked as I am, to tell you the truth! lol**_

_**Again, not much to say about this chapter. So, just enjoy!  
**_

Chapter Five – Took A Life Today

"Wow! You have an amazing house, Reaver!" Richard gasped in awe as he poked his head out of the carriage window. River climbed into the boys' lap, sticking his head out and letting his tongue fly back in the gentle wind.

"Hmm, yes. It's been my home for the last twenty years. My last one… well, it got slightly _damaged_ in a battle."

"A battle? Really?" Richard's attention snapped back abruptly to the pirate, the boy staring at him with wide blue eyes. Reaver smirked, nodding at the boys' excited question.

"I'm surprised your father hasn't told you all about it – he was there, you know. In fact, he was the reason the whole bloody thing started."

"My dad? Really? He never says much…" Richard trailed off, his attention diverted to the window again as River almost managed to fall out. He snatched the dog and gave it a scolding hit on the nose before letting him curl up in his lap. "Would you tell me the story, Reaver?"

Reaver locked eyes with the excited teenager, his mind swimming with memories of the battle. He wanted to forget anything remotely reminding him of Bloodstone, but it seemed that was never going to happen.

"I'll make a deal with you," Reaver suggested, leaning forward in his seat. Richard nodded, watching Reaver with interest. "After every lesson in which you show great improvement, I will tell you one story."

"Deal!" Richard agreed before Reaver could even stick his hand out for a shake. Once he did, Richard took it eagerly and shook with a grip that almost dared to compare to his father's. Richard smiled as wide as he could, laughing boisterously as he leapt from the carriage. It had barely come to a stop, causing Reaver to watch the boy with shocked concern. He stepped lightly from the carriage, giving orders to his servants over his shoulder.

"Come with me, Richard. I'll show you around," Reaver demanded, causing Richard to stop running wild with his dog. He smiled and nodded, signaling with a click of his tongue for his dog to follow.

Reaver led the way through his regal red decorated foyer. Three hallways spread off of that, each with a spiraling and elegant archway of dark cherry wood. Richard asked where each led, getting an exasperated explanation out of Reaver. The left lead to the kitchens, which the _mutt_ was never allowed to enter. The right led to different studies and a dining room, which also had a balcony that led out into the deep forests. Reaver explained that he was to take the dog to do his business in there, but never to go out into them by himself.

Finally, the hallway in front of them, circled by two thin winding staircases of matching deep cherry wood, led to a sitting area with a fabulous fireplace. It also contained Reaver's private study, which neither Richard nor the mutt were allowed to enter. Also down that hallway was one of the less impressive guest bedrooms.

"Wow! I'm gonna love living here!" Richard exclaimed as he began running up the stairs. Reaver smirked t himself and slowly began climbing after the boy.

"We'll see how long you keep that thought alive," Reaver stated, getting a curious look out of the boy. He ignored him, leading him down the main hallway. They passed by four bedrooms, any of which Richard could choose for himself. Upon seeing the fourth, the boy eagerly bounded into it and flopped down heavily onto the bed.

The room was inspired by Reaver's love for the forest, and it was almost no shock to him that the boy should pick it. it had a wall completely made of windows that stretched floor to ceiling, off-green curtains pooling on either side. The king-sized bed was covered in matching brown and green silk sheets and pillows, a small wooden chest at the end of it for the boys' belongings. On the opposite wall of the bed there was a great cedar closet that would soon be filled with the boys' clothes. The wood floors were an off colored pine, suggesting that the boy was, in a way, sleeping in a tree house.

"My quarters are just down the hall. The mutt is not allowed in there, either."

"I wish you would stop calling him that – he still hasn't learned his name quite yet. If he keeps hearing Mutt, he might start to think that's his name," Richard complained as he sat up in the bed, watching as the small dog began to whine in an attempt to get the prince to allow him up as well. Richard leaned down and scooped the dog up, watching as the dog proceeded to completely ignore him and lay down on a pillow. Richard laughed lightly and got up from the bed, crossing the room to look out the window.

"When can we start training, Reaver?" Richard asked enthusiastically, turning to look over his shoulder at the older man.

"Tomorrow we will go out and get you your first gun. Until then, why don't you just focus on making yourself at home?"

"Right!" The boy mock-saluted him, laughing as he grabbed the dog off the bed and pushed past Reaver into the hallway.

"He suwe has a lot of enewgy, Mastew Weavah," Barry said from behind the pirate. Reaver sighed and turned to face him, nodding at his statement.

"That he does, Barry."

* * *

Reaver personally hated travelling all the way to Brightwall for his shopping, but the boy had insisted on going there. Reaver had begun to deny the boy, seeing as how Bowerstone had a much better market arrangement, but the boy had persisted insistently.

"_Please_, Reaver. I've already been to Bowerstone more times than I can count! Can we _please_ go to Brightwall?"

After many attempted excuses, Reaver had finally caved and allowed the boy to go saddle his horse. Richard had jumped into the air and whooped some sort of excited war cry before bounding outside. Within the next hour, they were both on horseback, travelling through the forest and a gentle trot.

"Have you ever ridden a horse before, boy?" Reaver called back over his shoulder, pulling his horse to a stop once again to look back and check on the teen. Richard sat awkwardly in his saddle, his brow furrowed in concentration as he gripped the reins completely wrong.

"Um… once?" He stated sheepishly, looking over to the pirate through his eyelashes shyly. Reaver sighed heavily, gesturing for the boy to quicken his pace. Richard gently pressed his thighs against the horse, gasping sharply as the horse neighed and took off at a hurried gallop.

"Richard!" Reaver shouted after the boy before kicking his own horse into a gallop and racing after him. Richard held onto the reins for dear life, letting loose a single cry as his horse took a sharp turn. Luckily, Reaver managed to get in front of him and stop the horse, grabbing the reins from Richard forcefully.

"Are you alright, Richard?" Reaver questioned, gesturing for the boy to get off the horse. They both dismounted, Richard desperately trying to calm his horse. Reaver walked over to the boys' side, still holding his horses' reins in his hand.

"Yeah, fine. I'm sorry I caused trouble," Richard apologized, hiding his face in his bangs. Reaver shook his head, giving the boy a nudge with his shoulder.

"It's perfectly all right. That horse is usually skittish anyway – she probably got scared by something else."

"You don't have to make up an excuse for me, you know."

"Who said I was?"

Richard's frown turned into a small smile as he stared slightly up at the man, before his attention snapped to the forest.

"Did you hear that?" Richard moved away from his horse, staring out into the forest with curiosity bubbling in his eyes. Reaver quickly tied the horses down to a nearby tree, walking over to stand by the teen.

"Hear what?"

Reaver's hand rest on his gun as soon as he muttered those words, grabbing Richard's attention away from the forest.

"Wait, you don't think it's bandits or something, do you?"

"You can never be too safe out in these woods, my boy," Reaver mumbled, taking a step forward as he took his gun completely out of its' holster. He gripped it tightly, listening behind him as Richard unsheathed the sword he loathed to handle. Reaver could see the boys' hands trembling and he only hoped that he could keep a level head.

"Well, well, well, what have we got here?" A gravelly voice sounded from a distant path, and without hesitation, Reaver shot. He heard the accompanying scream as his bullet hit home and he could feel Richard stiffen behind him.

Another bandit launched himself from the trees, landing in front of Richard. The boy lashed out with the sword, hitting the man square in the chest. The bandit stumbled back and fell to his knees, blood seeping through his clothes. Richard froze for a second, watching as the life fled the man's eyes.

"Richard, keep your head together," Reaver called, shooting three men in the chest as they started to near them. Richard nodded to the pirate and quickly sidestepped out of the way of an attack. He managed to doge again, whirling around the back of the bandit and letting his sword hit home through the mans spinal chord.

"Reaver!" Richard looked away from the writhing body in time to see a large man shove Reaver to the ground. Reaver managed to twist onto his back and shove his feet to the larger mans' chest, enough to keep him from leaning in any further and slitting his throat. At the same instant, both Reaver and Richard realized that Reaver's gun had fallen from his grasp. Richard leapt to his feet, dropping his sword as he did so. He grabbed the gun from the ground, and with one hesitant glance to the attacker, a shot rang out into the clearing.

Reaver gasped sharply as the body went limp on top of him and he was forced to shove it off with his legs. He grunted with the effort, rolling free from the momentous weight as he looked over to Richard.

The boy was shaking, the gun still in his hand. He looked to Reaver, and then to the gun, dropping it onto the ground as he too sunk to his knees. Reaver slowly got to his feet, walking over to the boy without a word.

"I killed people, Reaver."

"Yes."

"Does it always… Does it always feel like this?" Richard stared at his hands, still caked in blood, with wide and trembling eyes. Reaver rest a hand on Richard's shoulder, causing the boy to look up into his eyes.

"I won't say that it gets easy – it never does. I will say that you eventually… _phase it out_. I've been doing it long enough to know that those words are true, my boy. The first is always the worst… you never truly forget that face."

Reaver bent to retrieve his gun from the ground, his hand still resting on Richard's shoulder. Richard watched him, some life coming back to his eyes.

"Why did that gun… does it always talk to you?"

Reaver froze. His fingers tightened around the familiar metal and his face went completely blank. Richard studied him with numb blue eyes, his hands limply laying in his lap now.

"What did you hear?"

"It just… no, forget it. I –"

"_What did you hear, boy!_"

Richard jumped as the gun was shoved in his face. He fell back in a startled manner, his heart thumping loudly in his chest.

"It was just nonsense! I couldn't make any of it out! What is going on, Reaver?" Richard's voice was frantic, his eyes searching Reaver's in a startled manner. Reaver finally relaxed, yanking the gun from the boys' face as he stood abruptly. Richard took a moment more before he too got to his feet. He walked over and grabbed his sword, preparing to mount his horse when Reaver stopped him.

"You ride with me. We don't want a repeat of last time," Reaver's voice was hollow as he gestured for the boy to climb on the horse. Richard obeyed, hopping on behind Reaver and wrapping his arms around the mans' torso.

"I don't want you touching this gun again. Is that understood?" Reaver twisted around slightly, reins in one hand and gun in the other. Unable to find his voice, Richard only nodded. Reaver sighed in some form of acknowledgement, kicking the horse into a trot as he aimed over his shoulder and shot the other one dead.

The last thing Richard heard were the dying screams of the horse.


	6. Voices In Your Head

_**Author;s Note: Sorry it took me so long to write this chapter! I have not had as much time as I would have liked to work on anything writing related, so this kinda just fell away. I really hope that you like this chapter, however, even if it is a short one!**_

Chapter Six – Voices In Your Head

Reaver had instructed the boy to go give the horse to the stable hands, then telling him to occupy himself for a few hours. Richard had agreed, walking off without much protest as he headed for a clothing shop that seemed to pique his interest. Reaver had immediately walked off, closing himself into an alleyway without as much as a thought.

_The boy had heard the voices._ That meant _he_ wasn't insane! Didn't it?

Reaver's hand twitched back to his hip, landing on the familiar metal he could always count on finding there. The danger of the weapon pricked his fingertips, taunting him to do more.

_We will show you true power._

No. Please, not now.

_Let us in, Reaver._

And suddenly Reaver was denying reality with everything he had. He was fighting against what he knew to be true and going with what whispered to him as fake. He was falling for them again, even after 200 years.

_Let us in, let us in. We only want to help._

_ We could make you so much better than you are, Reaver._

He could feel the promise they spoke of itching at the back of his mind, begging him to lose his control and let them take a moment to show him. They wanted to show him how to use his power – how to kill more people. All of his life, they had done most of the killing. He had slowly simply begun to stop listening to them and tune them out.

_Reality comes with a price, dear boy._

His breath hitched in his chest and his hands snapped away from the metal. The gun hissed at him in protest, but he quickly ignored it. He took one shaking step at a time out of the alley, quickly winding his way to a weapons shop. He needed to think of something else – something other than the damned voices.

"Welcome to the shop, mister," A cheery voice greeted his ears as he entered the small, unimpressive shack. He sighed heavily and bowed his head in acknowledgement, getting an offended look out of the salesman.

"Have you got anything of any _quality_ here, sir?" Reaver asked, jabbed one gun with his cane in a manner that suggested he was afraid to touch it. The salesman laughed at first, taking a few steps around the counter to come and stand in front of Reaver.

"If you knew anything about guns, you would see that this," the man picked up a gun that looked somewhat promising for a child of Richard's beginning talent, "Is a decent enough gun for any adventurer."

"Hmm, would I now?" Reaver smirked, casually taking his Dragonstomper off of his hip. The man's eyes widened and his grip on the gun he was holding went slightly slack. "Would I also, _presumably_, know how to fire _this_," Reaver aimed his gun at the man's head without so much as blinking, "through your _skull_?"

The man blinked a few times in what Reaver assumed was astonishment second and fear first. Then, finally, he seemed to snap back to life and respond to the pirate's words.

"R-right, sir. I did not mean to offend you, I just –"

"Yes, yes. Whatever your reason was, it was poor. So, I suggest you show me something better than that _child's toy_, hmm?"

Reaver tightened his grip on the gun, his face tightening with unreadable emotion as he kept his eyes on the man before him. He ignored the voices prodding at his head, tingling at his fingertips. He could _feel_ them again when he had no intention of allowing them to stay.

_We want to help you. We can show you how to be more powerful, Reaver._

Don't say my name.

But why not? All those years ago, you let us practically scream it into every skull we shattered.

"Let's shoot for a pistol, shall we?" Reaver suggested, every pun that came with his words purely intended. The man nodded at a speed that almost threatened to send his head rolling off his shoulders. Reaver sighed and put the gun away, the metal hissing loudly in his head in protest. He ignored it with a slight wince and followed the man around the store.

_Let us show you how it's done, Reaver._

* * *

Richard was bored.

He had thought that maybe Brightwall would have had more to offer than the same old Bowerstone Market did, but he was sorely mistaken. He had spent a good amount of time simply walking around to all the stalls, but soon they became boring. He'd dared to try and set foot into a tavern, only to have a soldier, who coincidentally knew what he looked like, pull him out. He'd received a stern lecture after that – which he had completely tuned out.

Now, he was sitting on the edge of the fountain, swinging his legs back and forth in a lazy fashion as he let one of his hands reach down and barely touch the water. He sighed heavily and let his eyes wander around the small town square, wishing silently that he had been able to bring River with him. Or, that Reaver would have allowed him to go into the weapons shop with him.

"Hey, kid!"

Richard turned his head in the direction of the loud voice, his bored blue eyes landing on a group of guards walking his way. He immediately leapt up with a curious glint finding his eyes. Something told him that they were not here to tell him anything good.

"Kid, you ain't allowed to be here," The main speaker snarled the words as he readjusted his black, soot covered hat over his dirty brown hair. Richard looked to him curiously, wondering what he could mean by his words.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I was just –"

"We don't take kindly to no strangers like you. Or that cocky bastard you came into town with."

"Excuse me?" Richard took a step forward, his hand resting on his sword that he was for once grateful he knew how to use. The leader eyed it carefully, each of the three guards behind him doing the same.

"Your fellow stranger in there is causin' quite the ruckus – we guards ain't good enough to contain 'em."

Richard began to open his mouth to ask the guard another question, only for a gunshot to ring out into the air behind him. He flinched, watching as the guard in front of him fell to the ground. He twisted to look over his shoulder, his eyes landing on Reaver standing on the steps of the weapons shop.

"Reaver! What are you –"

"We're done here. Let's go."

Richard watched in shock as Reaver calmly walked over to him and grabbed him by the elbow, towing him along the path and back to the entrance. The guards watched for a second in shock before reacting, quickly pulling out their guns. Reaver sighed in an annoyed way, aiming his gun over his shoulder and shooting the remaining three.

"Reaver!"

"Shut up boy! Next time you want to go shopping," Reaver leapt up onto the horse, practically pulling Richard on after him. Richard gasped sharply and tightened his grip around the pirate's waist. "We are going to Bowerstone."

Reaver ignored any further protest the boy had to offer, kicking the horse into a sharp gallop and taking off down the path.


	7. Nightmares That Plague Us Both

_**Author's Note: Two chapter in one day! Look at me go - and hey, this one is actually long! I found my stuff again, guys! :D**_

_**Enjoy!**_

Chapter Seven – Nightmares That Plague Us Both

"Alright. Aim for the target."

Richard held his new training gun in his hands, his eyes fixed ahead at the target intently. Reaver leaned nonchalantly against a nearby tree, watching the boy carefully. His form was sloppy and his hands were shaking. Reaver could tell that the boy was starting to have doubts.

"Richard, you have to pull the trigger to shoot."

"I know. I know."

"Do you?" Reaver took a few steps forward, twirling his cane lazily in his hand. He took the cane and hit Richard in the shins with it – the boy crumbled expectantly.

"Your form is part of the issue." Reaver took another step forward and hoisted the boy to his feet a bit harshly. "You have to remain _planted_, confident in where your feet are at all times. A gun has a recoil – _you_ have to be able to stand against that."

Reaver came to stand behind the boy, placing his limbs in a stance that he found acceptable. The boy began to gain a feel for it, slowly becoming more confident. The fear was still hiding in his eyes, though – that was something that quickly needed to be resolved.

"Why are you afraid?"

"What do you mean?" Richard straightened from the position, looking to the pirate with slight – _feigned_ – confusion in his features. Reaver sighed and hit Richard in the shins once more with his cane. This time, Richard managed to step out of the way of the hit, but only barely.

"Back to your position, _soldier_," Reaver mocked, walking back to his tree.

* * *

_We can help you._

_ We can offer you power the likes of which you have never seen before._

_We can make sure you have the means to beat him._

_ We can help you,_

_ Reaver._

* * *

Richard dodged a blow sent his way, tumbling back onto the ground. He gasped sharply, rolling out of the way as another fist flew his way. Without hesitation, he reached for the prop gun on the ground, aiming it and pulling the trigger in the blink of an eye. Reaver fell back and looked to the paint splatter on the front of his clothes with a slight look of annoyance.

"I'm sorry! You told me to –"

Reaver started to laugh, outstretching his hand for Richard to take. The teen took it gratefully, a smile of his own finding his lips. Reaver ran a hand through the boys' hair in a teasing manner as he continued to let his laughter fill the forest.

"Good job, my boy!"

* * *

Richard was covered in bruises and cuts, his chest heaving with each labored breath he took. His legs were sore and he felt as though his shoulders weighed three hundred pounds. He could feel his eyes slipping shut with sleep he so badly needed; but sleep that he knew would be a long way off.

"Again."

"Reaver, I still don't see what hand to hand combat has to do with marksmanship."

"Hmm, don't you?" Reaver took a step towards the boy, pushing him back against a wall. Their eyes met and Reaver pressed a single arm threateningly over the boys' throat.

"Imagine that you have just been disarmed of your gun," Reaver's free hand travelled to one of Richard's wrists, gripping it in a painful way. Richard gasped but refused to let his eyes leave Reaver's. "You now have no weapon with you, save for your fists. Which would you prefer: to die –" Reaver shoved against Richard's throat, getting a strangled noise out of the boy. "Or to have a chance at surviving your fatal battle?" With his ending words, Reaver let go of the boys' wrist and pushed away from the teen, watching as Richard sunk with relief.

"I'd like to live," Richard admitted in a defeated tone of voice. Reaver smiled, slapping the boy on the shoulder once.

"Good choice."

* * *

_We could have made this world yours._

_ Instead you chose to refuse us._

_You chose an unwise path, Reaver._

_ We could have made this world gold on your fingertips – _

_ All you would have had to do was give your soul over to us._

_So, Mr. Reaver:_

_ Can we have your soul yet?_

* * *

Reaver sat in his study, watching out the window as Richard ran through the forest with his dog. A small glint of pride found Reaver's hazel eyes as he watched how nimble the boy was now – how much he had changed. He could see that the boy was taking what he was saying to heart, actually absorbing his training and enjoying it. He could still see that Richard much preferred the gun to the sword.

"Hello, Reaver."

"Ah, has no one ever heard of knocking?" Richard turned around in his chair, a cup of whisky in one hand and the other resting on his lap. His eyes landed on a withered king standing in front of him with a small smirk on his worn face.

"You know who I am," The king smirked and walked into the study, sitting in the chair opposite Reaver and his desk.

"Ah, now _that_ is an understatement."

"I didn't come here to exchange pleasantries, Reaver."

"Hmm, then what _did_ you come to do, _Mon Moineau_?" Reaver asked, standing and walking to the liquor cabinet he kept very close to heart. He poured two more glasses of whiskey before returning to the king, handing one to him before he could protest.

"I came to ask about my son."

"Now, you know you will have to be more specific than that, _mon moineau_."

"Reaver, stop calling me that," Sparrow fixed him with an icy glare that could have anyone else bending their knee to him – Reaver only fixed his eyes on the king and smiled as idiotic a smile as he could muster.

"Hmm, yes – I forgot that nicknames were killed long ago," Reaver smirked as the bitter words left his tongue and bitter alcohol replaced them.

"I want to know how Richard is doing."

"He's improving swiftly. He is very skilled in this area of combat," Reaver stated the sentence blandly, almost as if he couldn't care less. Sparrow watched him with burning blue orbs as he slowly relaxed in the chair. Reaver noticed then how heavy the crown must be upon his shoulders.

"That's good to hear."

"Why the sudden interest?" Reaver took another sip of the alcohol, watching as Sparrow did the same. He had never known the man to enjoy a drink, but apparently all things could change.

"I'm dying, remember?" The look that crossed Sparrow's face then was that of complete despair. Without saying a word, Reaver rose from his chair and turned his back to the king, looking out the window.

"Come here. I want you to see something." He waited for the king to rise from the chair, watching as he slowly made his way to the pirate's side. They both let their eyes fall on the forest beneath them, watching as Richard bounded through them with River close at his heels.

"This is the happiest I have seen him since his mother died," Sparrow stated with a look of shock on his face. Reaver nodded, accepting the man's words as they were.

"He smiles all the time, and whenever I tell him stories of how great a Hero you were, he looks so proud to call you a father. He loves you with all his heart, and normally I would advise someone against that… but this boy is very determined. He won't let anything get in his way of showing you that he can amount to something… and do you want to know his reasoning?"

Sparrow said nothing, just kept watching the boy as he sped through the forest. Suddenly, Richard stumbled over a twig and fell to the ground. River barked and leapt on top of the teen's chest, licking his face affectionately. Richard's laugh filled the air and a smile spread wide across his face.

"He is doing all of this for you. He has told me multiple times that he wants nothing more than to be a Hero just like you. And personally," Reaver cautiously set a hand on the king's shoulder, shocked a bit himself when the king did not shake his hand off. "I think he is more the likely candidate than Logan."

"What are you trying to say, Reaver? Are you trying to say that I should just ignore my firstborn's right for the throne and hand it directly over to Richard?" Sparrow's eyes left the forest and flickered back to Reaver's.

"You see it too, then."

"No."

"What? I hardly even suggested it. You said it yourself."

"Logan has the throne when I die, and I expect you to be his advisor, as you agreed. Just because you have taken a shining to my youngest does not mean you can convince me to go against every rule the kingdom has ever set."

Sparrow pulled away from his touch then and Reaver could almost feel his heart shatter for the second time by this man's actions. He looked away and moved to lean against the edge of his desk. His eyes focused away from Sparrow and back out the window.

"Richard deserves it more than Logan ever did."

"Why does this matter to you so much, Reaver?"

Their eyes met again and Reaver sighed heavily. He had tired for days now to convince himself that it was not so, but somehow it had sunk into his mind and now there was no escaping it. There was no denying what he had already repeated more than once in his head.

He liked Richard. The boy had wormed his way into the pirate's heart and now Reaver could never see a way of life without him. He had tried to deny it for the past two months – he had had nightmare after nightmare about it. He had tried to convince himself that it was because he was Sparrow's son and that it was just a coincidence that he would fall for two men in the same family. He had also tried to rationalize that it was a fatherly relationship – somehow he could not.

"I want him to be happy."

Sparrow looked the pirate over with question in his eyes, but the question never came to pass his lips. Reaver avoided his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning further against the desk. Sparrow moved closer, almost as if he was trying to intimidate the pirate.

"What game are you playing, Reaver?"

"Nothing."

"I doubt that."

Silence fell between them once more and Sparrow sighed heavily. He moved away from the pirate and around the desk, setting his glass down on the wood as he passed. He was at the door, leaning against the frame as he turned back over his shoulder and locked eyes with the pirate.

"If you harm my son –"

"I already assured you, I have no intention."

Sparrow sighed and left then, closing the door with a resounding _thud_ echoing into the room. Reaver sighed heavily, walking over to the same side of the desk that Sparrow had set his glass on. He set his fingers on the glass and ran them around the rim with a forlorn expression on his face.

* * *

Reaver tossed and turned in his sleep that night. Nightmares plagued his head, sweat pooling around his spine. He arched in the bed, strangled cries barely escaping his lips. He could feel the dream, he knew it was a dream; he just had no way to _escape_.

Richard bolted awake as he heard a loud cry down the hall. He felt River snap to life beside him, the growing dog's lips peeling back in a snarl. Richard pet him on the head, sending him back into a tense sleep.

"Stay here, boy."

He began to walk hesitantly down the hallway, his eyes struggling in the dark. He felt his way along the wall, carefully avoiding all the creaking floorboards he already knew too well. He could feel the tension in the air beginning to bubble on the back of his neck, his hairs each standing on end as if they could warn him of what was to come. His grip tightened on the gun that he had made the habit of taking to bed, knowing how Reaver _loved_ to spring training on him in the night.

"Reaver?" Richard called hesitantly into the room as he rest his hand on the heavy oak door. He could hear the pirate inside panting, strangled cries mixed into the scared breathing pattern. "Reaver, I'm coming in."

Richard set foot into the room, carefully adjusting his eyes to his new surroundings. A king bed was the first thing his eyes noticed, obviously where he would find the object of his midnight quest. He took a few more hesitant steps, carefully flexing his fingers that gripped the gun. He made it to the edge of the bed, his eyes landing on Reaver – a tangled mass of limbs in the bed.

"Reaver," Richard whispered the pirate's name, resting a single hand on his chest. Within a second of the touch, the pirate snapped to life and had a gun pointed to Richard's head. Richard gasped and stumbled back, yanking his hand from the pirate's overheated flesh.

"Reaver, it's just me," Richard strained to keep his voice even and to keep his fear at bay. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest and knew that without a doubt the fear was showing in his eyes. He locked his gaze with Reaver, nonetheless, and slowly moved to set his gun down.

"What in the bloody hell are you doing in my room?"

"I heard you in here and I thought I should check on you," Richard finished setting his gun down on the nightstand, his eyes never leaving the pirate's.

"Wha- Why?" Reaver stuttered the words, his eyes flickering with confusion as his mind seemed to sputter in an attempt to catch up to what was being said. Richard hesitated to answer, his eyes flickering to the gun still in his face.

"I – you just… You sounded like you were having a nightmare," Richard's voice shook and his hands began to tremble in the air. The look in Reaver's eyes was terrifying, and even Reaver seemed to be afraid of the demons haunting him.

Finally, his hand shook and the gun fell from Richard's face. Reaver rolled over and placed it on the other nightstand, his pale back turned to Richard then.

"You don't need to worry about me. It was nothing."

"Reaver –"

"Get out."

"What? Why?" Richard leaned in, reaching out with a hand. Suddenly, Reaver snapped back and grabbed Richard' wrist harshly. Richard gasped and stumbled in, getting pulled closer to the pirate.

"I told you to get out," Reaver growled, his face mere inches from Richard's and his breath fogging Richard's face. He could smell alcohol on the man's breath and it was almost overwhelming. Reaver's grip tightened on Richard's wrist and he managed to pull the boy slightly closer, their eyes locking in a complexly emotional gaze.

"If that's what you want, you have to let go," Richard tried to pull away, only to feel Reaver' resist him. Richard tried to make sense of the emotion in Reaver's eyes, only to find turmoil and darkness.

"No… No, I…" Reaver's voice shook and his gaze wavered.

"_Please, stay."_


	8. Stay Away In Solitude

_**Author's Note: Ugh! It's so short! UGH UGH!  
**_**_Honestly, I am just happy I was able to write this - I have been suffering from HORRIBLE writer's block. So, I am sorry for the length and probably the quality of this chapter, but it's the best I could manage. I will definitely be working on 9 here shortly, and as fast as I can._**

Chapter Eight – Stay Away In Solitude

"_Please stay."_

They didn't talk about it. They went back to their normal routine of training first and talking later. In fact, they hardly ever spoke. Reaver would deliver his instructions with a stone face and a calm façade, but Richard would watch him with numb ears and eyes that saw too much. He would take the pirate's instruction and he was improving, but his mind only ever stayed in one place. Reaver's, however, tried to stray as far as possible from that place.

He had nightmares every night. He woke himself in the night, panting and disoriented. He knew the voices were getting worse but the gun was like an addiction – it's metal an element he could not live without.

So where was his therapist when he needed one?

He was dying to share his thoughts with someone, but so far the only consolation had been alcohol. That hardly worked to begin with, but now he was going through two bottles of whiskey a night. It dulled his thoughts enough that the nightmares allowed him a few hours sleep, but then they came again. He clawed at his sheets and arched his back in almost impossible ways, but always they came.

"_Reaver."_

"_What is it, little bird?"_

"_I want you to know that…"_

"_Hmm?"_

"_Nevermind."_

Those were the worst; the memories replaying over and over again in his head. He could deal with it once, but when they repeated…

He had to get over _him_ once – doing it again was too much.

"_Reaver."_

"_What is it, Mon Moineau?"_

"_I can't see you any longer."_

"_What do you mean?"_

"_I mean it's time we ended things."_

"_And what brought this on?"_

"_I… I did a lot of thinking."_

The words rang over and over again, echoing in his hollow mind and more than anything he simply wished he could block them out. He wished that the alcohol would kick in and his mind would slur his reality finally. He wanted to be able to _forget_ finally – he wanted the ability to move on with his miserable life that had already taken so many turns for the worse.

"Reaver."

"What is it, my boy?"

"Why are you avoiding me?"

Reaver's eyes snapped up from the table he was staring at intently. He blinked in disorientation while his eyes blearily focused on the boy before him. Richard stood in front of his desk, hands on the wood as he leaned in with a stern expression written on his face.

"Why are you in my study?"

The pirate evaded the boys' original question, his eyes flitting over him as if he was nothing more than a shadow. And that was exactly how he felt – the shadow of something that was haunting Reaver and enveloping his soul completely. He could hear Reaver at night when he was screaming and the only thought that ran through his head was that he couldn't do anything. He couldn't do a damn thing because the pirate had shoved him away.

"Forget it. Maybe I should just leave," Richard sighed heavily, his shoulders sagging as he turned his back to Reaver. Reaver sighed, running a hand through his hair as he stood suddenly.

"No, stay."

"That's the second time, Reaver," Richard turned partially, his lean frame barely filling the doorframe as his pale face stretched with annoyance. "That's the second time you've asked me to stay without as much as a word of reason why."

Reaver eyed the boy with cold emotion in his eyes. He clenched his fists on the desk, his shoulders rolling into a defensive position he had no idea how to use. He let his breath out between his teeth in a strained sigh.

"There's a lot you _don't_ need to know, Richard."

"Don't give me that," Richard took a step forward, anger finally finding his features and his demeanor. Reaver blinked rapidly to clear his head of the sudden image of Sparrow – _they aren't the same person, damn it!_

Reaver looked away and back to the dark wood of his desk, his mind spinning with thoughts he never wanted to think; thoughts he had made sure to abandon 19 years ago. He had made sure that he buried them under hundreds of years of other memories – now they were clawing back to the surface. He didn't want them. He didn't want to think of that night…

"Then what do you want me to say, _mon garcon_?" Reaver's voice shook and his fists trembled on the desk, fingernails digging into the underside of his skin. He didn't look up, even when he heard footsteps closing in on him. Somehow, the threat of danger kept him in a reality which he knew he could control. It kept him on his toes, even if he knew Richard was no danger to him.

"Talk to me," Richard's voice was simple as he set his hand low on Reaver's back, his body pressing slightly closer to the pirate's. Reaver tensed and turned abruptly, snatching Richard's wrist in his own as he did so.

"You don't want these demons, Richard."

"I don't have to _want_ them – they come with the price of caring for you, Reaver."

Silence fell again as their eyes locked – blazing blue and hardened hazel – in a gaze that could only be described as emotion bubbling to the surface. Richard tried to show as much compassion as he could, his hand unresisting in Reaver's grip. Reaver, however, was complexly unaware of anything but his overwhelming thoughts.

_He is not Sparrow. He is not Sparrow. He __is not__ Sparrow._

He tried to repeat that to himself over and over again in his head, hoping that somehow it would kick him back into gear. Jumpstart his systems – do _something_ to get him away from all those years ago; away from all those painful memories.

"You're a _kid_."

"And you're 200 years old."

The retort came with almost no hesitation on Richard's part. His eyes sparked to life and he dared to take another step closer, not surprised in the least with Reaver's grip tightened slightly on his wrist. He ignored the pressing pain and moved his other arm to wrap around Reaver's torso. He pulled the man into a hug, feeling the pirate tense against him.

"What… Why?"

"People _can_ care about you, Reaver."

Reaver's hand fell from the boys' wrist as his head rolled to press against the teens'. One of his arms moved to gently rest on Richard's hip, numbness finding every one of his nerves.

"They never have before." _Ignore the stab of pain to his heart. Ignore the poison those words left on his tongue. Ignore the guilt eating away at his mind._

"You just haven't met the right person."


	9. Whatever Way You Want Me

_**Author's Note: So... this just happened...**_

_**Um... Enjoy?**_

Chapter Nine – Whatever Way You Want Me

Richard dodged a sloppy punch thrown his way, spinning around the back of his opponent. His gun slid carefully from his holster, his finger itching to pull the trigger without another thought. He heard an angered growl behind him, his head snapping back as his vision swam. He tumbled to the ground with the body on top of him, losing his grip on his gun.

"Always shoot first, my boy," Reaver sneered, his hand closing around Richard's throat. Richard nodded, his eyes locking with Reaver's in an understanding gaze. Reaver looked away for the briefest of seconds, allowing Richard time enough to shove him off of him. His hand grazed Reaver's thigh, managing to get a good grip on the Hero's own gun. He pulled away in a blinding fast movement and quickly aimed it at his head.

"Bang," Richard laughed, fake-shooting Reaver. His fingers curled around the metal tightly, his eyes staying focused completely on Reaver as the pirate smirked and raised his hands above his head.

"Very good, boy. Seems even _I_ can let my guard down," Reaver chuckled and got to his feet, moving slowly forward.

_Shoot him. Shoot him now, boy._

Richard gasped and flinched back, his eyes flitting to the gun in confusion. His hand shook and his eyes wavered between darkness and light, finally forcing him to look over to Reaver with a pleading look behind his confused eyes. Reaver watched him in shock before rushing forward and harshly disarming him.

The pirate didn't say anything, simply shoved the gun back into its' holster and turned his back to the teen briefly. He sighed heavily and returned his gaze to Richard, shocked to see the teen still frozen in place.

"Richard –"

"Why does it… Why does it do that?" Richard shook his head as he tried to clear his thoughts and snap back to reality. He took another step back, almost as if his mind was stumbling around with his limbs.

"They say all of them are cursed…" Reaver sighed as he began with those trouble words. He had only ever shared this with one other, and they had ended up dead afterwards. "All six Dragonstompers are in my possession, but I have only ever held this one. They say that it bonds with you… and if it does not like what it sees, then…" Reaver fingered the metal at his hip with a distant expression on his face, his eyes no longer seeing the trouble boy before him. They travelled to a time long ago with faces he had not seen in ages.

"So… why do you keep it?" Richard's eyes flitted to the gun again, a secret temptation finding the blue orbs. Reaver shrugged, his shoulders feeling as though they weight a million pounds. He watched the boy carefully, waiting for the curiosity to ebb out of him and for the demons to finally take hold.

Much like they did him.

"This is the only link I keep to my past… As much as I say I wish to forget all those years ago, they actually… actually mean something to me."

Silence fell between the two and wind brushed past them, blowing the tension with it. Richard moved forward and rest his hand on top of Reaver's at his hip, both their hands now resting on the metal.

"If you want to talk about it…"

"I have gone 200 years. I think I can manage a few more," Reaver stated with a small smile, leaning into the boy. He reached up with his free hand and cupped the back of the boys' head, pulling him close enough so that he could plant a small kiss on his forehead. All of this within seconds of the thought registering in his brain, and then it was too late to regret it.

Richard tensed for a second, pulling the slightest bit away to stare at Reaver with slightly confused eyes. Reaver still wore a small smile on his lips, and before he could even think, he bent the short two inches that separated them and rest their foreheads together. His breath mingled with Richard's and soon he felt the prince's eyes flutter closed.

"Richard," Reaver's voice was barely a whisper, but nonetheless it sent chills ghosting down Richard's spine. "If we go through with whatever this is…"

"I'm here for you, Reaver. In whatever way you want me."

Those words sealed the deal for the pirate and he closed the remaining distance between their lips, matching his with the prince's. Richard hummed in surprise before he looped both his arms around Reaver's neck gently and let the pirate take the lead.

Reaver's grip tightened in the boys' growing hair, and his other found the boys' hip, pulling him slightly closer. Their lips moved in sync, now, both giving into the pleasure that had threatened them for so long now. They pulled away, both panting as they rest their foreheads together once more.

"Do _not_ tell your father, Richard." Reaver warned, getting Richard to laugh, loud and boisterously, throwing his head back with the action.

* * *

That night the nightmares came twice as hard and twice as bad. Reaver tossed in his sleep, muscles tensed and body writhing. Richard woke down the hall after the first scream, immediately going to the pirate without hesitation now. He padded down the hall in barefoot, gun carefully strapped to his hip and concern written on his face.

"Reaver, are you okay?" Richard called into the room with a single knock, having learned his lesson from the last time. His only reply was another strangled cry, causing Richard to wince at the sound. He pushed open the door and entered, walking carefully to the side of the pirate's bed.

"Reaver," Richard called the man's name again in a strained whisper as he reached out with one hand. His fingers barely made contact with flesh before his wrist was snatched between nimble fingers and he was pulled down onto the bed with Reaver straddling him in a threatening chokehold. "Reaver, it's me!" He reached up and pressed his hands to the pirate's chest in an attempt to push him away, only to be pushed further into the mattress. "Reaver!"

Realization soon hit Reaver like a ton of bricks. His hands snapped back and he lurched off of Richard, panic crossing his face instantaneously. Richard sat up, coughing harshly as he attempted to catch his breath.

"Damn it, Richard! What did I –"

"I don't care about your damn rules, Reaver. You were in _pain_, so I came," Richard turned and met his panicking eyes with determined ones of his own. Reaver stared at him numbly, watching in silence as Richard climbed onto the bed and pulled Reaver tightly against him. Reaver lay his head against the boys' chest as they reclined on the mattress, the boy's arms wrapped tightly around the slightly shaken pirate.

"I thought I was supposed to be the mature one here."

"Evidently not." Richard laughed, kissing the top of Reaver's head. "Go back to sleep. It's okay now."

"How ironic that _you_ would be soothing _me_ to sleep, little one," Reaver mumbled, curling up to the teen without any further complaint.

* * *

Reaver awoke to the sweet scent of the forest and something very oddly _Richard._ His eyes fluttered open to realize that he was hugging the boy to him with his arms around the teen's waist and their bodies perfectly aligned. Richard began to stir, nudging back with a sleepy moan that threatened any self control Reaver had left.

"Morning."

"Hmm," Richard twisted as he hummed, his sleepy eyes finding Reaver's in a happy gaze. Reaver smiled and leaned in to capture the boy's lip in a soft kiss. Richard hummed against him; one hand reaching up to knot into Reaver's disheveled hair. Reaver gasped lightly that Richard would be so forward, suddenly allowing the teen entrance he had been unaware was being asked for.

Reaver pressed their bodies closer, unintentionally ending up on top of Richard as their mouths battled. Reaver pulled away and moved down the prince's pale neck, kissing and biting gently. Richard gasped and arched, the grip in Reaver's hair tightening. Reaver's hands travelled to the boy's hips, gripping them tightly as his mouth travelled back up along the prince's jaw.

"Ah, Reaver," Richard's gasped the pirate's name breathlessly, harshly grabbing him by the hair and brining their lips back together in a heated kiss. They both gasped into the action, pressing their bodies closer as things began to get more and more out of hand.

"Richard, are you – we can't –" Reaver began to try and rationalize only to moan loudly and return his lips to Richard's. The prince smiled against the pirate's lips, hips bucking up experimentally. Reaver groaned and pulled away to meet Richard's eyes with his own lust-filled ones.

"Don't back out on me, Pirate," Richard mocked, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Prince."


	10. Not Again

_**Author's Note: Okay, so this is a rewrite of this chapter. I am finally happy with it and I actually, shockingly enough, have a clue of where I am going with this. So, I hope this is better than the last version of this chapter I had put up. And I am so beyond sorry that it took so long for me to write and post this. But (not to jinx it) I think my writer's block is finally gone. Three cheers for that!**_

Chapter Ten – Not Again

Richard looked at the calendar and noticed he had exactly a week left. One week left with Reaver if he didn't beat whom he chose to fight… one week left of what had been the best part of his life.

Arms wrapped around his waist and Richard smiled, leaning against the body that accompanied them. Reaver leaned in and kissed the back of Richard's neck gently, pressing close to him and tightening his arms around him.

"Something wrong, _mon petit amant_?" Reaver whispered the words in Richard's ear, placing another gentle kiss at the base of his neck.

"We only have a week, Reaver."

"Hmm, time does fly," Reaver mumbled, pressing closer and evidently taking none of Richard's words seriously.

"I'm going to be _leaving_ in a week, Reaver. I'm going to be _fighting_ you or papa in a _week_," Richard pulled out of Reaver's arms, turning to face him with worried eyes and a worried expression. Reaver sighed and nodded, looking away and to the ground.

"Yes, it appears so."

"Reaver, tell me you're as _scared_ as I am!" Richard's voice rose and shook, his eyes wavering with uncertainty and fear. Reaver sighed, stepping forward and pulling Richard into his arms.

"Everything will work out, little one. You will win whatever battle you choose to fight and…" Reaver took a heavy breath, pulling away to stare into Richard's eyes. "And we will figure this out."

Richard shook his head and looked away, pulling apart from the pirate.

"No… no, not… I'm not worried about _that_, Reaver," He shook visibly, beginning to pace back and forth suddenly. "What about _us_, Reaver? What will… what will happen? What will papa say – will papa even find out?"

Reaver reached out and grabbed Richard's shoulders, forcing him to a stop. Their eyes met and Reaver could only see worry and fret in the teen's eyes.

"Don't worry, little one. It's the adult's job to worry, remember?" Reaver smiled and cupped the boys' cheek, his eyes filling with adoration. "If you wish for me to speak to your father, I will. He and I _do_ share a past, so –"

"No, you _can't_ tell him. He – He can't know. Not until… not until this turns into something serious."

"Ha, oh you wound me so, Richard," Reaver laughed at the boy lightly, feigning hurt at the teen's oddly mature words. "Do you think I can't hold an honest relationship?"

Richard smiled weakly but said nothing, only quirked an eyebrow at the pirate. Reaver chuckled lightly as he took the prince's hands in his own.

"I promise you that I will handle everything – that everything will turn out fine. But for now, let's just enjoy this last week, hmm?"

Richard smiled and nodded, eagerly stepping into the pirate's embrace.

* * *

_We will take him from you, Reaver._

_ We will make him __ours__._

_ He will __destroy__ you._

_He will be ours._

* * *

Reaver bolted awake, thunder crashing around him. Beside him, Richard stirred and rolled onto his side, angelic face no turned to Reaver. His eyes fluttered open and connected with Reaver's, and immediately he was on high alert.

"What's the matter, Reaver?" His voice was groggy and still filled with sleep, but his hands wrapped around Reaver's and his eyes filled with concern as he pushed himself into a sitting position. Reaver sighed heavily, the breath shaking and his hands tightening around the prince's.

"Nothing. It was –"

"Reaver," Richard stated his name in a warning tone, suggesting that if he did not tell him what was going on, there would be some sort of consequence. He chuckled darkly, letting his head fall forward limply. He ran his free hand through his hair and let it rest at the back of his neck as he ran his fingers through the short hairs there absently.

"It was another nightmare."

"And?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Reaver's voice fell flat, totally unconvincing. Richard sighed, shifting closer to the pirate and resting his head on the other man's shoulder.

"I'm here for you."

"I know."

"So talk," Richard mumbled, shifting suddenly so that he was sitting behind Reaver. His hands began kneading at the man's tense muscles, getting a surprised gasp from him. Richard slowly worked on every knot his fingers happened upon. Reaver let his hand fall from his neck and let his head roll back.

The gun was getting to him. He could feel it and he knew – he _knew_ – it was happening. He didn't want it to. He didn't want Richard to get hurt. He didn't want things to take another undesired trip south.

"You have to talk about it with _someone_, Reaver," Richard's voice was soft as he placed his lips gently on the back of Reaver's neck. The pirate hummed, his body numb enough that Richard somehow had the upper hand.

"The shadows, they…" Reaver sighed, letting his head fall back against Richard's shoulder as the prince pressed closer. The boy wrapped his arms around Reaver's waist, pressing another kiss to his neck.

"What shadows?"

_Don't tell him._

_ You can't._

_Don't tell him – this is __our__ secret, Reaver!_

"They… They are the reason that I am the way I am… Immortal, I mean," Reaver's eyes fell closed as he rest against the prince. Richard didn't say anything, simply hummed and waited for the pirate to continue. "They took it all from me, Richard."

His voice was hollow but his head swam with memories. He could see each and ever face he had ever given up. People thought he was heartless and forgot –

Each face was burned into his memory.

"Reaver –"

"Please, just stay quiet," Reaver begged, finally sitting forward. He pulled his legs to his chest and rest his chin on his knees.

"We will seal

_The deal with_

_You, young_

_Reaver."_

_Four black, cloaked figures stood before the young man. Reaver nodded, his whole body going numb with expectation. Fear racked through him, nerves on fire in all his limbs._

"_Darkness_

_Will consume your_

_Soul. Do you_

_Understand these terms?"_

_And then, he had nodded. He had agreed and taken the greedy deal. He had watched as they flew from the cave, laughing into the wind as one rest its' boney hand on his shoulder. He had watched with eager eyes as blood began to spill from the ceiling and cover him._

_He could still taste it on his lips._

Richard laid a hand on Reaver's shoulder, trying to reassure him in anyway he could. Reaver only winced away from the touch, his body shaking with the memories.

He was stupid – he had been stupid enough to accept an offer, which he knew, could have no benefits. And for a long time, he had believed that there had been no tricks behind their words. He had believed that they had been completely honest and given him exactly what he had bargained for.

"Reaver, calm down."

He should listen to the boy. He was clearly concerned – Reaver could hear the concern thick in his voice. He should listen to him. _Was he __hyperventilating__? Was that his breathing that was shattering the silence around him?_

"Reaver –"

"I'm going for a walk," He stated these words briskly and then he stumbled forward out of the bed, somehow uncurling from his mock-fetal position. He grabbed at a random shirt, pulling it over his head in an attempt to get away almost as fast as he could. _But why was he running again? Was that what he was doing – running?_

He managed to stumble down a few hallways, making it to the staircase. He stared down it, his eyes flickering between his feet and the first step. He was hesitant to take it – as if, if he took it, he would never turn back.

And a part of him knew that that was exactly right.

He cursed under his breath and continued down the hallway, his hands in fists at his sides. He could feel his knuckles turning white and he could feel his shoulders tensing with his brooding thoughts and the sudden increase in his need for a drink. But alcohol did nothing – it never did – even after his centuries of begging for some sort of outcome. He wanted to get drunk; hell, he _craved_ the hangover in the morning.

It meant he was human. And now, he was beginning to wonder what the hell he really was. Was he human? Was he even _alive_ anymore?

He pushed open the thin wood doors that led to another balcony overlooking a small courtyard. The fountain in the middle splashed water on each of the stones surrounding it, the echoes filling the night hollowly. He watched each splash with numb eyes – his mind somewhere else completely.

_Flames consumed his village as he watched with horror in his eyes. He stood by the countless other citizens, watching their houses and lives get torn away from them. This was the third time in ten years and Reaver was beginning to wonder if the Shadow Court had maybe cursed him instead. At the time, he still believed that being immortal was, in fact, everything that it was cracked up to be. _

_He had still believed that he could find a normal life and live it for eternity._

"_What are we gonna do now, huh?" A gruff male voice muttered just above the general hum of the crowd. Reaver turned to locate the voice, catching eyes with a sturdy looking blonde man._

"_We push on. Is there really anything else we __can__ do?" Some female voice responded beyond the blonde male, earning her own chorus of appraise from the crowd. The blonde sighed and nodded, looking a bit defeated._

"_I know that… but __how__?" He asked, his voice shifting with uncertainty. Reaver watched this exchange silently, his mind still struggling to keep up with the turn of events._

"_You put one foot in front of the other – you find work, go to Bowerstone and maybe get yourself a gun. A man like you could easily make a living as an adventurer, of sorts," Reaver suggested, unaware he had even spoke up until he heard his own voice ringing in his ears. The blonde's eyes met his and they held a steady gaze as each studied the other._

"_And I suppose you have a lot of experience in losing everything you have?"_

"_More than you know."_

"More than you know, old friend. More than you know," Reaver mumbled the words, his hands resting on the balcony railing and clenching into fists around the stone. He shut his eyes and shut his eyes, shaking his head as if that could rid it of the memories.

Damn him to hell if he was going to let everything be taken from him again.


	11. One More Go-Around

_**Author's note: So, I actually managed to get this chapter written fairly quickly. I think I finally broke whatever horrible writer's block I had been having. Yay for that! Anyway, I am actually pretty fond of this chapter, simply because I realized how easy Sparrow and Reaver are to write with each other. I love their relationship and I love the chemistry between them. I think I might do more with them, but who knows.**_

_**Enjoy!**_

Chapter Eleven – One More Go-Around

Richard didn't see Reaver that morning. He dared to ask a few of the servants and all of them said the same thing:

"Master Reaver said nothing of his departure."

* * *

"King Lionheart, you have a visitor."

Sparrow lifted his head from his reading, his eyes locking onto his butler Jasper. The man was in a bow; his form obviously awaiting any response the king could give. Sparrow sighed and set the book down on his lap, regrettably paying attention to Jasper.

"I thought I said no disturbances."

"He has a gun, sire," Jasper lifted his eyes and said the words in a tone that suggested only one thing.

"Come in, Reaver," Sparrow shouted around the servant, dismissing the man as Reaver entered with his Dragonstomper slung over his shoulder in a cocky manner. Sparrow smiled sourly and stood from his chair, setting the book on a table nearby. Reaver watched him and said nothing, silence rolling off him in waves. Sparrow stopped and eyed him seriously, concern finally finding his emotions. "Is there something I can help you with, Reaver?"

"The nightmares are back."

"What do you mean?" Sparrow took another step towards the pirate, his brows furrowing in concern. Reaver sighed, his breath shaking as it left his lungs. He let the gun fall from his shoulder and somehow numbly find its' way back into the holster on his thigh.

"The shadows – the gun – they're talking to me again," Reaver stated, his voice smaller and shakier than it had been a single sentence ago. Sparrow reached forward and rest a single hand on the mans' shoulder, guiding him somehow to a nearby chair.

Reaver wanted to object to being treated like a frail child, but a larger part of him was already shattered. He could feel his walls crumbling around him and he knew – he _knew_ – that at any second, he could completely break. He would rather have someone there for him than to do it alone. _Not again_.

"What is going on, Reaver?" Sparrow asked, his hand still on Reaver's shoulder. The pirate looked away from the blazing blue eyes that still pained his heart to look at. He sighed heavily and felt his shoulders begin to shake.

"I… I came to you because you are the one person who I know I can talk to. I can't… I can't talk to anybody else about this, Sparrow," Reaver knotted his hands into his hair as he slumped forward, looking to Sparrow as if he could literally start sobbing at any moment. Sparrow moved his hands to Reaver's back in a comforting manner, reaching behind him with his free arm to pull a chair closer to him. He sat then and pulled the pirate closer to his chest, feeling his own heart shatter as the pirate went limp against him.

"So talk," Sparrow offered, running his hand through the man's hair and pushing his out of the way. Reaver shook his head lightly, as if that was all the movement of his body that he could muster.

"They're going to take it all away again, Sparrow."

"Not if you don't let them."

_The blonde man kept staring at him, as if that answer was some sort of shocking revelation. Reaver simply stared back, waiting for the man to catch on._

"_So, what? You think that because you – one person out of hundreds – know how to fend for yourself, that we automatically do as well?" The blonde was angry now. Reaver stared back with uninterested eyes._

"_I can teach you."_

"_And what makes you think –"_

"_Let him teach us, Robert. He may be telling the truth, you know."_

Reaver felt another sob creeping up on his lungs. He could try and hold it back, but that seemed pointless, now. He was, after all, in the kings' arms shaking like a scared child. So, as the tears pricked at his eyes and he finally felt whatever shred of control he had fly off in the wind, he allowed the sob to rack through his body. He leaned further into the king and began sobbing, tears staining his cheeks and flowing down onto the regal clothes.

The only thing that entered his mind, however, was the hand constantly on his back.

"It will be alright, Reaver. They can't actually hurt you, you know," Sparrow mumbled, resting his head on top of Reaver's and inhaling the pirate's all-too-familiar scent.

"You _know_ that's a lie, Little Bird," Reaver hissed through his teeth, the nickname finding his tongue without intention. Sparrow tensed for the briefest of seconds before taking a sharp breath and continuing.

"The Shadow Court was destroyed. You _do_ remember that horrible month, oh, about 30 years ago, yes?" Sparrow teased lightly, trying to get Reaver back to a former shadow of himself. It was a start, and the king knew he had nowhere else to start.

"They never go away, little bird."

Suddenly, Reaver _knew_ why they were returning. They had lost their home and were now looking for a replacement. They were desperate to crawl under someone's skin and just so happened to have access to his.

"Not if _you_ let them stay," Sparrow spoke softly, still holding the man to his chest and breathing in his scent. He was well versed in facing demons and knew how to rid someone of them. He still had nightmares, but the difference was that he did not let the fear eat away at him. Reaver had appeared to be capable of that, years ago. But now –

"You don't know that, Sp–"

"_Try_ to believe that I do," Sparrow's voice rose and he pushed away from the man. Their eyes locked and Reaver was suddenly reacquainted with the eyes that ran in the family; eyes that could blaze as bright as the purest sky, if they needed to. Sparrow sighed and stood, walking over to his desk and reaching in a drawer. What he pulled out had Reaver on his feet in seconds.

"You have – why in the hell do you have one of those?"

Sparrow sighed and held the gun gingerly in his hand, his fingers flexing around the metal in an almost experimental way. He let his eyes fall away from Reaver and stay fixated on the gun, remembering the moment and wishing he could do anything but.

"When you sent me in with the seal… They were rather _adamant_ that I take it. I didn't really have a choice in the matter," Sparrow muttered, clenching his hands tighter around the metal before letting it go and fall to his desk. His eyes tore away from it and landed back on Reaver, watching him carefully.

"They are planning something, Reaver. You and I just so happened to be in the middle of it."

"What do you mean?" Reaver asked, the words leaving his lips and sending a numb chill through his whole body. He fell back into the chair, his body finally unable to keep up with his rapidly changing emotions.

"The Shadow Court was… well, they were not _stupid_," Sparrow walked around his desk and returned to his seat next to Reaver, folding his hands in his lap as he sat down. "They knew that you would eventually become a useful pawn, and chances are that they thought the same way of me. I don't think they saw my death coming, however," Sparrow laughed lightly, trying to break the thick ice that had once again formed between them. Reaver was watching him as if he was crazy – _was he sticking up for the Shadow Court?_ – and waited for his turn to completely go off on the king.

"So you're saying that they're _using_ us?" Reaver ran a hand through his hair as his gaze fell to the floor and his mind spun with thoughts and possibilities. He wanted them all to go away but knew that somehow the minute his mind went blank, he would regret it. That would let the shadows in and he did not want that to happen. He wanted them out and _gone_ and if that meant killing something – some_one_…

"What did you honestly expect, Reaver? 200 years has not taught you much, I have to admit."

"Do not start with me, _King Lionheart_," Reaver warned, his voice harsh and hissed between teeth. "I am well aware of what has been done in my many years."

"Why do you insist upon shutting yourself off repeatedly, Reaver?'

"What do you mean?"

"Moments ago you were sobbing in my arms and now you are shutting me out completely. What happened to you wanting to talk about the nightmares and being willing enough to spill your soul?" Sparrow spoke with finality, determined to prove his point. Reaver went silent, his hands clenching into fists on his knees.

"You didn't exactly make it clear that you wanted me a part of your life – in fact, I recall that you shoved me out rather forcefully 19 years ago," Reaver growled the words, standing and finally allowing his eyes to flicker to Sparrow in a glare. He turned to leave, his back finally turning on the king. Sparrow stood as well, closing the distance between them and shoving him forcefully against the wall.

"That was 19 years ago, Reaver. It is time for you to move on – I did. I knew what I had to do and so I moved on. You can't hold onto _us_ forever. Stop wallowing in your misery!" Sparrow lifted his arm and pushed it against the pirate's neck, pressing hard enough to get a small choking sound out of Reaver before he pushed away.

"You don't think I _tried_? You don't think that I forced any thought of you away for years on end? Hell, you don't think that _every time_ I look at Richard, I see you?" Reaver shouted the words, his anger finally bubbling t the surface and escaping his carefully constructed walls.

"And don't you think it was agony for me to watch you do that? That it was painful to marry a woman I cared nothing for and have two children I never knew I could love so much?" Sparrow turned around slightly, his eyes meeting Reaver's with his own form of rage burning within. "I still remember _everything_, Reaver, and I would do _anything_ to forget and move on."

"Why did you do it?"

"What?"

"Why did you walk away from what we had? You could have… there were other options."

Sparrow opened his mouth to reply, only to shut it in uncertainty. He let his eyes fall from Reaver, his anger flooding out and leaving his body limp. He wanted to tell the man the truth, to be able to make at least some form of friendship work between them. All he wanted was to be able to help Reaver through whatever the hell this was…

"Get out, Reaver. You got what you wanted, now leave."

The words left his mouth too soon and the door slammed shut moments later.


	12. First Time For Everything

_**Author's Note: Okay, this time around, I'll be talking to you a little at the end of the chapter. :) Keep on scrollin'**_

Chapter Twelve – First Time for Everything

"Reaver!" Richard called out to the pirate as he dashed through the front door. Reaver barely looked up, somehow managing to plaster a smile onto his face for the boy. He numbly returned the hug he was slammed into, his arms around the boy only as an instinct. He only listened to the boy chastise him out of habit.

His mind was still behind him in the castle; his mind was still with the king. He was still remembering –

"_Get out, Reaver. You got what you wanted, now leave."_

What _had_ he wanted? He had wanted comfort and consolation – but why go to Sparrow? Why go to the man that he had avoided for nearly 20 years? He could have gone to the boy he was currently sleeping with.

He could have trusted Richard.

"Reaver, are you even listening to me?" Richard put his hands on his hips and his eyes began to scrutinize the pirate. Reaver only nodded and pulled him into another hug, keeping his arm around the prince's shoulder as they began to walk inside.

"Of course, Richard."

They made it into the mansion and somehow Richard managed to pull Reaver away from his responsibilities and to the bedroom. Reaver let him, not currently in a state of mind to object too much. He soon found himself on the edge of the bed, staring up at Richard.

"What happened?"

"What do you mean?"

"Reaver, you woke up from a nightmare and ran off for two days. Without one word. What _the hell_ happened?" Richard demanded, resting his hands over Reaver's. Reaver's eyes flickered to his, his body tensing slightly at the prince's contact.

"I needed to think."

"You couldn't do that _here_? Where you were safe?"

"Were you _worried_ about me, young on?" Reaver smiled, the action one of the few honest ones of late. Richard pulled away, blushing and looking as though he was torn between looking flustered or angry.

"Well, yes. I –"

Reaver leaned forward, pulling the boy down to him and stealing his lips in a kiss. Richard gasped slightly in shock against the pirate's lips before he submitted completely. Reaver pulled Richard down so that the boy was straddling his lap before he broke the kiss.

"Reaver –"

"Thank you, Richard."

Richard blushed heavily as he stared at the pirate in confusion. Reaver pulled him in to another kiss, pressing to the teen closer. It became clear to the prince soon that Reaver had no intention of stopping this time around.

"Wait, wait," Richard managed to pull away, pressing his hands on Reaver's chest. Reaver paid him almost no mind, his lips travelling down his neck. "R-Reaver, what are you –"

"Do you want to go this far with me?" Reaver mumbled against the teen's skin, nipping at the skin gently. Richard tried to hold back his moans, unconsciously arching closer to Reaver.

"Damn it," Richard hissed under his breath as he pulled Reaver into another kiss. Reaver smirked against his lips, managing to shove the boy back on the bed.

"I'll take that as a yes, then."

* * *

"_You are using him."_

_Reaver flinched at the sound of the voice that was all too familiar. He turned around, yanking his sight from utter darkness to face the blazing white._

"_What the hell are you doing here?" Reaver made to reach for his gun, only to find he did not have it. He cursed under his breath and let his glare fall back onto Theresa._

"_I have come to speak to you."_

"_That much is obvious, yes," Reaver retorted, running a hand through his hair as he let an exasperated sigh escape his lips._

"_Are you __using__ Richard?"_

"_No, I am not using him."_

"_Really?" Theresa arched one eyebrow under her hood, taking a few steps closer. Her hands stayed folded in front of her and that was probably what annoyed Reaver the most. "Because any relationship as secretive as this –"_

"_Our relationship –"__Try not to sneer the word__ "–is none of your damn business!"_

"_It is when it concerns Richard."_

"_Why do you –" Reaver cut himself off, his anger diluting finally. "Ah, hell. He's the next Hero, isn't he?"_

_And suddenly it all made sense. He could finally see why the boy had such success in both swordsmanship and marksmanship. He could finally see why Sparrow was so afraid to let the boy go and explore the world. _

_Sparrow had known all along that Richard was the next Hero._

_Before she could answer, Reaver began laughing harder. He threw his head back with the action and wrapped his arms around his middle._

"_Well, you can forget whatever you came here to ask me. I am no longer your servant – you made that clear 35 years ago. I am no longer a Hero, so I suggest you get me out of here before things turn violent." Reaver turned his back to her and began to walk away with a smirk still on his face._

"_I was the reason Sparrow left you."_

_Reaver stopped dead in his tracks._

"_What__?"_

"_He has not spoken to me since. I was the reason that he –"_

"_Yes, yes, I get that!" Reaver shouted, whirling around to face her furiously. "You insufferable __bitch!__"_

"_I had my reasons, Reaver. Do not –"_

"_Don't get __upset__? Don't let my __emotions__ get to me? Don't have the urge to __shoot you__ straight through the head?" Reaver shouted the word, taking angered steps closer as he did so._

"_You are being entirely –"_

"_Get me the hell out of here before I find a way to kill you."_

_Theresa obeyed with a slight nod of her head._

* * *

Reaver awoke suddenly, his arms tensing around Richard. He inhaled sharply, pressing even closer to the boy. Richard hummed, nudging against the pirate sleepily.

"Mm, what's th'mattr, Rver?" Richard slurred the sentence, his eyes opening blearily. Reaver smiled and planted a kiss on his neck, nudging the prince's head back onto the pillow.

"Nothing. Go back to sleep, little one."

* * *

He awoke the next morning to warmth and sunlight. Richard wanted to lay there forever – arms around him and comfort his only concern. HE wanted to be able to wake up like this every morning.

"Good morning, young one," Reaver hummed in the prince's ear, pressing his body closer to the boy. Richard smiled wide, rolling over to face the pirate.

"Morning," Richard smiled, laughing lightly as Reaver leaned in to steal a kiss. Richard wrapped his arms around the man's neck as Reaver moved to press on top of him, the kiss deepening as he did. Reaver's hands travelled to the boys' hips, gripping them tightly and getting a moan out of the teen. "Am I going to wake up to this every morning?" Richard smiled up at the man, getting a chuckle out of Reaver.

"If only you could," Reaver mused, kissing Richard on the neck as he rolled off the teen. Richard sighed and propped himself up on an elbow, now looking down at Reaver.

"I know that tone. Something's wrong and you aren't going to tell me," Richard's smile vanished and an instant pang of guilt prodded at Reaver's heart. He sighed heavily and pulled the boy down so that he was resting on his chest.

"I simply received a rather _unwanted_ message last night by a woman whom I have no qualms in killing," Reaver kissed the top of Richard's head and hummed lightly as the boy pressed closer and curled around him.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For finally trusting me."

* * *

_**Author's Note 2: Alright, so last chapter (or a few chapters ago, i have no clue, honestly) I got a review mentioning something along the lines of wondering when Richard and Reaver would ever 'do the do' or even if they ever would. I hope that this answered that question and I just want to point something out: I DO NOT WRITE LEMONS. I can and have in the past, but this story is not going to have any in them. (As far as I know, but lately, they have been getting kind of promising.) Anyway, the point of this is that I know when a story is told to me MaleXMale or Yaoi, people automatically think that it will have lemon(s) in them. So, I just wanted to clear that up.**_

_**Other than that, I do hope you liked the chapter! Also, I do give people permission to use these characters in lemon-y stories, if they wish. THAT BEING SAID YOU HAVE TO MAKE SURE THAT YOU TELL THE READERS THAT THEY ARE A PART OF MY STORY AND THAT THEY ARE NOT YOURS (Richard, at least. Reaver obviously isn't mine, either.)**_

_**Anyway, see ya around next chapter (hopefully) :)**_


	13. Memories

_**Author's Note: Alright, I am sooooo sorry it took me so long to post this! I've been kinda busy - I JUST GOT TWO NEW KITTENS - okay, sorry, back on track. :P**_

_**Anyway, I do hope you like this and I hope that I can figure out an ending.**_

_**Part one ends soon. Thank you all for being such awesome readers! And thank you to all who reviewed! :D It means a lot to me!**_

Chapter Thirteen – Memories

The last days of Richard's visit were bliss. He could easily say it was the happiest he had ever been; the best he had ever _felt_.

Reaver finally began to open up to Richard. He began to tell the stories he had promised the boy all those months ago. He told of how the Shadow Court had give him immortality – a story that the boy had taken more interest in than he would have preferred. Then he told of how he and Sparrow, along with a mage named Garth and a monk named Hammer, singlehandedly made the kingdom what it was today. Richard had simply smiled and laughed, watching as the pirate's ego threatened to swell too big.

"But all of that happened 35 years ago – which just goes to show how _old_ your father really is," Reaver teased with a small smile on his lips.

"Ah, yes – because _he's_ the old one, here," Richard laughed, watching as the pirate gave him a cross look. Richard simply smiled wider, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek before stepping away. "Come on – if we don't go now, we'll never have enough time."

"A bit eager today, prince?"

"Well, I want to be able to win this tomorrow. So get a move on, old man," Richard laughed loudly as he dashed out the door with Reaver on his heels.

"What did you just call me?" Reaver's voice rose as he stormed after the boy. The only response he received was another laugh out of the boy. Richard dashed around the corner, managing to make his way down one flight of stairs before Reaver caught him. The pirate pushed him against the wall, pressing their bodies very close together.

"_Old Man_," Richard stated the words defiantly, lingering on each syllable as if to tease the pirate. He smirked as the pirate leaned in and captured his lips harshly. Reaver nipped at the teen's lips, getting a gasp out of him as he arched closer. The teen wrapped his arms around Reaver's neck, one hand knotting into his hair. Reaver smirked and let his hands travel to the teen's hips, deepening the kiss further as he pressed their bodies even closer together.

"I do not believe," Reaver's words slurred as his lips travelled down the teen's neck, nipping at the skin ad getting a strangled moan from the boy, "that any _old man_ would do this, hmm?"

Richard laughed, pulling their lips together and kissing the pirate eagerly. Reaver smirked against the boys' lips before he pulled away, wrapping his arm securely around Richard's waist.

"Now, let's go get some training done, shall we?" Reaver suggested, smiling as Richard just laughed lightly and leaned against him as they both continued out into the forests.

* * *

Sparrow walked the hallways with his arms crossed tightly behind his back. His gaze never wavered from in front of him, watching the velvet carpet and wooden walls glide past with his confident stride. His red cape fluttered slightly and he knew that his crown was glistening as well. It always felt as though it weighed ten thousand pounds and today it felt even more so.

"Sire."

Sparrow sighed heavily and stopped in his tracks, not bothering to turn around to who he already knew the voice belonged to. "Yes, Jasper?"

"The carriage is ready for you, my lord."

Sparrow nodded slowly, his eyes travelling along the walls. He studied each plank of wood, each decorative tapestry and each fault he could find. He made sure his eyes lingered on the pictures, each familiar face greeting him warmly.

"I'll be there in a minute, Jasper. There is something I have to attend to first."

With those words, Sparrow walked away and turned down the hallway he needed to see most. He took a heavy breath before he rounded the corner and spotted the first of many portraits. Soon, the memories began to swarm his head.

His eyes first landed on the picture of him and his sister. He could still recall how she had been skeptical of the man's "magic box". He'd made a goofy face and afterwards, she'd hit him for ruining their one piece of "magic". He could still remember every detail of that night –

The next photo was one an artist had painted. It was simply of Sparrow vanquishing some beast he had fought. He couldn't remember receiving the painting, or even the beast he had been fighting, but the scar above his collarbone still ached at night.

Then came Hannah. He smiled at all the photos that followed their friendship. His favorite was the one where she was slung over his shoulder with laughter captured on both their faces. It had been a drunken dare – the Hero of Strength daring him to pick her up ("As if you could!") and being astonished when he did. They had not stopped laughing the whole night and even now a small smile graced his lips at the memory.

A mirage of photos flooded his vision as he continued through the hallway. Each had its' story and each seemed to make him more sad than before. He could remember each town and each monster. He could still feel every scar and remember every citizen he had failed to save.

He got to a small table, eventually, and at first he refused to look at it. He could feel his heart tightening already and he knew the emotions would kill him eventually. His could still feel every touch, remember every word of adoration, and taste every time their lips had met –

"Damn it," Sparrow hissed the words under his breath as his eyes finally fell onto the picture. He studied it with watering eyes, a lump forming in his throat as he _refused_ to let the tears flow.

Reaver smiled up at him, laughing as he held the newly crowned King in his arms. Sparrow was laughing as well and he could remember now that he had constantly kissed the pirate everywhere he could. Reaver had returned the kisses, laughing and congratulating him. Sparrow still thought that Reaver had been the happiest he had ever seen him in that photo.

He reached down and stroked the wooden frame with trembling hands. He felt a single tear roll down his cheek and immediately pulled his hand away. He shoved the photo face down, listening with numb ears as glass shattered under his harsh shove.

"Please forgive me for all I did."

* * *

Reaver dodged another blow through his way, quickly sidestepping to avoid yet another one. He smirked as he saw Richard's next move too late to stop it. He ended up pinned to the ground with the boy straddling him triumphantly.

"I win," Richard smiled, leaning down to plant a brief kiss on Reaver's cheek. Reaver chuckled and managed to hold the boy close, switching their positions and smirking down at the boy arrogantly. Richard laughed, letting Reaver pin him down instead of protesting.

"Do you now?" Reaver teased, leaning in and kissing the boy deeply. Richard kissed back, arching closer as he managed to get one hand free to grip tightly at Reaver's shirt. Reaver hummed and pushed closer, deepening the kiss still.

"I always do," Richard muttered in a snarky tone as the pirate pulled away. Reaver smirked and pushed off the boy, helping him to his feet.

"We'll just see about that tomorrow, now won't we?"


	14. Decisions

_**AAAAAHHHH I AM FINALLY DONE WITH THIS CHAPTER!  
THIS WAS PROBABLY THE WORST CHAPTER I HAVE EVER HAD TO WRITE BECAUSE YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MANY TIME I REWROTE IT AND OHMYGOSH I AM FINALLY DONE!**_

_**Okay, now seriously, I am sorry that it took so long. I've been kind of busy, and school starts in a week, so that has kept me occupied. I do hope you enjoy this, and I hope that I can somehow manage to tie the ending together in a decent way.**_

_**Only three (or so. I'm hoping for no more than three) chapters left until the end. Of Part One, that is - there will still be other parts continuing the story and when the time comes to post them, I hope you guys will all stay with me.**_

_**Enjoy the chapter~!~!**_

Chapter Fourteen – Decisions

Sparrow hated carriages. It was as simple as that.

In all his days of adventuring and non-stop travel, he had not once used a carriage. Willingly. There had been times when Garth had managed to trap him in one magically, or when Hannah managed to hold him down long enough for the ride. Reaver had been smart enough never to get him in one in the first place.

But now…

He had to admit he was not at his prime. Hell, he was _dying_. There's not much one can do whilst narrowly avoiding laying in their deathbed.

"Where are you going, papa?" Sparrow turned to see Logan coming down the small pathway behind him. He smiled weakly and outstretched his arm in a way to beckon the boy forward.

"It's time I got your brother back home," He could tell that the second he said those words Logan regretted asking. He hated the void that had formed between the, but yet he had no control to change it.

"I thought he was staying for good," Logan almost hissed the words through his teeth. Sparrow sighed at the words, almost wanting to roll his eyes like a child.

"We'll see." Sparrow turned away, patting Logan on the shoulder as he left.

"Wait, papa. Can I come as well?" Logan caught his father by the hand, much like a begging child. Sparrow's eyes softened at the sight as he suddenly recalled the teen's childhood.

Logan had once been a happy child. He'd enjoyed the days when his father would manage to get away from his duties. They would always play swords together; one fantastical adventure conjured up one after the other. Logan's favorite had been slaying balverines…

"Might as well," Sparrow smiled sweetly, pulling Logan under his arm. Logan tensed slightly, rolling his shoulders to close the three-inch height difference between them. He smiled sourly as they began walking down the hallway towards the carriage.

* * *

Reaver's thoughts were slowly eating away at his mind. He could hardly think of anything other than that of which he wanted to run away. He wanted to hide from the thoughts that were slowly eating away at his remaining sanity.

He wanted reality to _stop_ – to leave him alone and let him _imagine_ his happiness for once. He wanted to pretend for just a while longer that he could ignore the nightmares and the fear that was slowly grabbing hold of his heart.

He wanted to pretend as long as he could, if even only for Richard's sake.

The boy was running around the mansion, grabbing every servant's attention that he could to shout in their faces that his father was coming. His father was coming and he was going to prove to the king just how much he had, in fact, improved. Reaver had watched him for a while before his overwhelming happiness had caused the pirate to retreat to his study. Now, Reaver was simply miserable.

This would be the second time that someone would be taken away from him. This would be the second time that he would have to _"move on"_ and pretend that none of it mattered. That he, the pirate king that never held a relationship for more than a night, had not changed. That he had not begun to _feel_ something for the teen boy…. That maybe he _was_ changing.

He wanted to prove to someone – _anyone_ – that he had changed. That he was capable of being an actual human being.

* * *

Sparrow stared out the window with a solemn expression on his face. Logan sat beside him, hands folded in his lap as he stared at the floor of the carriage. He hated the silence between his father and him, but what could he say? What could he possibly say that did not reveal how he felt about this whole situation?

For his whole life, Logan had been the one to hide in the shadows. He was the monster that hid under his brother's bed and he was the one thing that kept fear lurking in the shadows for the teen. Of course, all that had changed when suddenly Sparrow took an extra liking to Richard. Then, Logan had been even more outcast. For all his father and mother cared, he did not exist.

He truly became a shadow.

He knew it was wrong to take his emotions out on his brother, but it was the only way he had ever gotten noticed. His mother would scold him and while her eyes filled with anger, he felt that she was finally acknowledging him. He felt that she finally saw him and knew that he too needed attention.

But then she would walk away with Richard by her side and the younger boy would look over his shoulder at Logan, sticking out his tongue in a childish display of triumph. Then Logan's heart would shatter once again and he would retreat again to the shadows, ready to plan his next ambush on Richard.

Logan let his eyes venture from the floor, slowly trailing up the form of his father. The man that had once been a symbol of hope and heroism now hunched over in his seat as he rolled the fabric of his coat between two gnarled old fingers. He had changed and Logan could finally see that the sickness was eating away at him. It was winning and there was nothing that neither he nor his brother could do to stop it. They would lose their father and the kingdom would lose the best king that they had ever had.

"Father –"

"Ah, we're here, Logan," Sparrow flashed him a small smile as he opened the door and practically shoved Jasper out of the way, mumbling something to the servant along the lines of "I can still get out of a carriage on my own, you know."

Logan let the words die out in his mouth as he, too, got out of the carriage and followed his father into the mansion.

_Father, I promise that I will take care of the throne for you._

_You have my word._

* * *

Richard walked through the hallways finally starting to feel as though he had used all his energy. He could feel the anxiety and sadness finally settling in and he had no idea how to make sure that it stayed away.

He had no idea how much longer he could keep the show up – how much longer he could convince Reaver that this was the right decision. Hell, he was trying to convince _himself_ that it was the right decision.

"Richard?" Reaver called out for the boy, walking down the hallway his servant had pointed him to.

"Right here, Reaver," Richard called over his shoulder, casually leaning against the wall and crossing his arms over his chest. He looked over in time to see Reaver come up behind him, the pirate looking slightly sour as he did so.

"Your father and brother just arrived."

"Logan's here?"

"Yes. Apparently your father thought it a good idea to create even more conflict," Reaver smirked at the words, attempting to put some humor into them. He stepped closer and leaned against the wall behind Richard, casually pressing their bodies close together. Richard heaved a sigh and turned slightly so that his back was against the wall instead of his shoulder.

"Reaver…"

"Yes?"

"What are we going to do?" Richard looked up to the pirate with slightly pleading eyes as the stress finally broke through his walls and poured through. Reaver let out a small hum, wrapping one arm around Richard's shoulder as they both looked away and to the wall in front of them.

"What do you think we should do?" Reaver's voice was small, as if he too regretted asking the question and dreaded the answer. Richard wanted nothing more than to pull Reaver close and never let him go, but…

"We could tell my father…" Richard sighed heavily and let his head rest against Reaver's shoulder, "Or we could continue to keep it a secret."

"Secrets never end well," Reaver rest his head on top of Richard's, his arm tightening around the boy.

"I know."

"So, we tell him."

"Yeah…"

They both turned to each other in the same moment and within seconds their lips were crashing together and Richard was pressed firmly against the wall. His arms wrapped around Reaver's neck as Reaver's held his waist tightly. The kisses were sloppy and rushed, but passion was still in every movement. Reaver pulled away and lifted one of his hands to cup Richard's face, smiling down to the boy.

"We'll be just fine."

Richard returned the smile as he linked their hands and they began walking back down the hallway.


	15. Promise Me

_**Author's Note: I, um, I hate this chapter. Ick. I just don't know... ugh**_

_**I'll figure something out for next chapter. please tell me what you think, though. I really need to know if I need to re-do this or not. There are only certain parts that I hate, but maybe the whole thing needs redone. I have no clue.**_

_**Enjoy it, though. Thanks for reading!**_

Chapter Fifteen – Promise Me

"Come with me to my study. There is something I want to show you, Richard." Reaver tightened his grip around the teen's hand as they continued walking down the hallway. Richard had too much on his mind to refuse, so he let Reaver lead him down the winding corridors without saying much of anything. He simply fell into step with the pirate and rest his head on his shoulder, smiling as Reaver untangled their hands so that he could wrap an arm around Richard's waist.

Reaver opened the door and pulled away from the teen, letting him sit in an armchair by an extravagant fireplace. To Richard's surprise, the room was severely less dark than he had anticipated. The wood his desk was made of was of a light stain and that same wood carried around on the crown molding on the ceiling and around the windows. Reaver's desk was positioned in front of two huge bay windows that gave the pirate a fantastic view of the forest and the small village that could be seen beyond. The rest of his furniture was intricate and ornate, the fabric on the two armchairs and one couch of a pale blue pattern that helped accentuate the light in the room. Bookcases lined almost every wall, save for the wall occupied by his liquor cabinet.

"Wow, Reaver. I never pictured this as your ideal décor," Richard commented lightly, smiling as Reaver cast him a playful glare. The pirate continued to move towards his desk, eventually reaching into one of the many drawers and pulling out a very simple but elegant box. Richard's attention was caught immediately and he sat forward in his chair, watching the pirate with cautious eyes as Reaver walked back to Richard.

"These past months have been amazing, Richard," Reaver's voice was calm and low, barely a whisper to the teen. Richard watched the pirate carefully, his heart rapidly picking up pace in his chest. "And I wanted you to know exactly how much you truly mean to me."

Reaver opened the box and Richard felt his heart stop. He forgot how to breathe for a second, and the small gasp that escaped his lips next was his frantic attempt to respond somehow.

"You don't have to say anything… just listen," Richard took a shaking breath as Reaver spoke, nodding numbly. Reaver took the simple golden ring from the box, holding it between his fingers gingerly. He sank to one knee, setting the box down and looking up to Richard.

"I am horrible at relationships. I always have been. But you have shown me that it's all right to fail that… that even though I screwed up previously, that does not mean it will continue to happen. You showed me what it meant to _live_ again." Reaver took a heavy breath and looked down to the ring, almost as if he was studying the small designs on it. "This isn't a marriage proposal if you don't want it to be – you're still so young. This is just… a promise. Promise me that you will stay with me."

Richard began nodding, tears pricking at his eyes and finally spilling over. He smiled like an idiot, sticking out his hand for Reaver to slip the ring on. As soon as the pirate did so, Richard threw himself into the man's arms. Reaver laughed as they tumbled backwards on the ground, the teen landing on top of him. Reaver pushed them over so that he was on top, quickly sealing the teen's lips in a deep kiss. Still smiling, Richard pulled away and simply held Reaver's face between his hands.

"Of course I'll be yours. Always."

* * *

Logan and Sparrow had been told that Reaver and Richard would be with them in moments. It was much, _much_ longer than a few _moments_. So, Logan had asked his father's permission to go explore the forests around the mansion. He knew Richard would _not_ want to see him, so he figured it was the most reasonable way to spend his time.

He rounded the corner of the house and was headed down the path when he heard barking in the distance. He turned his head in time to see River bounding his way, tongue hanging out of his mouth as he ran at full speed.

"No, River! No!" Logan's attempt to get the dog to stop were all in vain as the dog tackled him to the ground. They both went rolling down the hill, a tangled mass of limbs and paws. Logan let out a few curse words as they continued to roll, eventually letting loose a particularly nasty slur when they landed at the bottom. He stood and pushed the dog harshly off of him, dusting his clothes off as he glared at the too-happy beast. "Damn dog."

He sighed heavily and ignored the dog as it fell into step behind him. He grumbled under his breath but otherwise ignored the dog and kept walking. He followed the winding path and came to a clearing eventually, staring up to the sky with bored eyes. He eventually looked back to the mansion, unable to stop the twang of jealousy that spread through him. His brother had gotten to move to an actual _home_ and –

"What the bloody hell?" Logan took a startled step forward, squinting into the sunlight as his eyes focused on the bay windows of the mansion. He felt his jaw go slack as he stared in awe at the sight in front of him.

Was that…? That was Richard and Reaver. Kissing – doing a _lot_ of kissing!

"But – what? Did you know about this?" Logan turned to River, pointing to him almost as if that would get him to answer. River stared at him in confusion, cocking his head to the side as he stared at Logan blankly. Logan turned back to the window, looking once more before he shut his eyes and attempted to un-see whatever the hell he had just seen.

"No, no, no. This is not – they _aren't_ together. They – Father. Father has to know." Logan mumbled the words to himself as he scrambled up the hill at a fast sprint. River was at his heels, barking happily. Logan cursed at the dog, managing to grab a stick and throw it, officially managing to get him away.

"Shit, shit, _shit_."

* * *

Sparrow sat in the room awaiting Reaver and Richard. He knew that the pirate was probably trying to prove something by making him wait, and honestly, he could not have cared less. He was in no hurry to tear away his sons' dreams – and however unlikely it might be; he was also in no hurry to lose to Reaver in any way. He knew the pirate was up to something – he had been since the minute he had gotten hold of Richard – now it was just his job as king and as Richard's father to figure out _what_ he had been up to.

Jasper shifted his weight behind Sparrow, taking another look around with a heavy sigh. Beside him stood Walter Beck – a new addition to the king's guard and one Sparrow had taken a liking to almost immediately. Walter had also apparently taken to Logan fairly well, somehow knowing that it would soon become his job.

"Sire, maybe we should go _get_ this Reaver person."

"Jasper, I told you already – getting him would only result in you both getting murdered – or worse."

"Or worse, sire?"

"With Reaver, there is always an 'or worse'. The sooner you realize that, the better off you are," Walter took the words right out of Sparrow's mouth before the king could even reply himself. He looked at the soldier with analytical eyes, watching him as more than his own protector. His sons would someday be in the soldier's hands and he wanted to be as sure as he could that he had chosen correctly.

"And how exactly do _you_ know this, Ser Beck?" Jasper turned to the soldier with the familiar indignant look in his eyes that Sparrow always knew meant trouble. Mind you, Jasper could never _dream_ of fighting the soldier, but the servant _did_ have a way with words that would soon have anyone surrendering.

"I do my research, Jasper. Maybe you should start," Walter sneered the words, casting a somewhat serious glare to the servant. Jasper's jaw opened as though he was going to reply, but instead, nothing came out. Sparrow turned in his seat to face them both, shocked at the man's silence.

"You are the first that has been able to silence Jasper, Ser Walter. I believe I might start having you around me at all times," Sparrow joked, getting a glare out of the servant. "Oh, lighten up, Jasper. It's time you learned to enjoy life."

"Yes, yes – you tell me that with every sour look I give you."

"If you would stop giving me so many –" Sparrow cut himself when a loud crash emitted from down the hall. Walter tensed immediately and signaled for both Sparrow and Jasper to stay in the small room as he cautiously stepped out.

"Watch where you're going – do you have _any_ idea who I am?" A distant voice sounded down the hall, followed by the mumbled and rushed apologies from what sounded to be a flustered maid.

"It's just Logan, Walter. You can put the sword away," Sparrow smirked, walking over to the soldier and placing a hand on his shoulder. Walter nodded and did as he was told, backing away so that Sparrow could walk down the hall to his son.

"Logan, that is not how you apologize to her," Sparrow walked up calmly, kneeling down beside the maid and giving her a bright smile. He handed her the silver tray she had dropped along with a few other items, smiling the whole time. "I'm sorry for my son's clumsiness and very uncouth mouth. Please, forgive us."

"I – no, it's completely my fault, your Majesty! I should have been watching where I was going and I just – I am sorry! Please forgive me, Your Majesty!" She scrambled to her feet, managed some form of a low curtsey, and fled down the hall whence she had come. Sparrow stood then, casting a small glare to his son.

"Father, I should not have to apologize to someone like _that_ –"

"Oh, someone, you mean, that brings you your food and gives you everything you need? Someone who sacrifices their time taking care of you so that you may stomp on her and never show her any thanks?" Sparrow took a step towards his son, clearly intimidating him even if he lacked a few inches in height. He made up for it in muscle he had accumulated over the many years of adventuring. "Her life is worse than yours, Logan. The sooner you realize that, the sooner you will gain the love of the kingdom. Ruling is not all about your strict rules and appearance of power – you have to get to their hearts and let them know that you mean every kind word that you say. You have to let them know that your smiles are not some sour cover-up that tastes like shit on your tongue."

Sparrow jabbed his son in the chest, sending the boy stumbling back a few steps. His glare never wavered and the tone of authority in his voice had only grown more and more serious as he had spoken. "Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal, Your Majesty," Logan bowed low, his face sour with submissive qualities and his tone anything but true. Sparrow nodded, turning away and walking back down the hallway. "Father, there's something I came to tell you."

"Spit it out, then," Sparrow stopped, not bothering to turn back, but instead listening over his shoulder.

"Richard and Reaver are –"

"Oh, your majesty! Was there something we can get you? Master Reaver has said that you should not leave the room," A male servant came scurrying up, bowing to both Logan and Sparrow as he did so. Sparrow turned to him, watching him carefully.

"No, there is nothing. I was simply handling a situation with my son."

"Ah, I am sorry to intrude then. You must be happy for Richard, though."

"Generally, yes. But why particularly?" Sparrow took a step forward, his brow furrowing together in confusion. Logan tried to interject before the servant could say anything more, but his father silenced him with a gesture that meant there was no negotiating.

"For Reaver and him, I mean. You do know Master Reaver meant to propose this morning, yes?"

"He _what_?"


	16. True Hero

_**Author's Note: Sorry it took so long; school just started up and I have AP classes, and my school us undergoing construction. So, not only do I already have homework on the first week, but I also have to deal with everyone and everything being thrown off by the construction and just uuuuuggghhhh - it is not a pretty thing. **_

_**Anyway, I am honestly not happy with the ending of this chapter. After a certain point, I just sorta threw something together. I hope you guys still like it, but honestly, I can see why you wouldn't. I just - I kinda hate it. And also, someone has to review and tell me if this is a shitty ending. I really need some help deciding if I should end things here - I have ideas for the story if I do end it here, but also, I know that I should probably tie things up neater.**_

_**So: enjoy. At least as much as you can, ya know.**_

Chapter Sixteen – Finale

"We need to go see to your father and Logan now. We have kept them waiting for long enough," Reaver mumbled the words, kissing Richard on the forehead as he pulled away. Richard nodded, taking another look at the ring as he too took a few steps back.

"I still can't believe you."

"Hmm, is that a compliment or should I be insulted?" Reaver chuckled slightly, smiling at the prince. Richard shrugged, being vague in his response. He moved and grabbed his gun from a chair, looking at it with a saddened expression on his face. "You'll do fine, Richard."

"That's what you say now. You don't –"

Both men turned around quickly as the door snapped open. Reaver's immediate response was to grab his gun and Richard found himself doing the same. A servant came stumbling in, shoved by Sparrow behind him. The look on his father's face was pure fury – the maddest Richard had ever seen him.

"Papa –"

"What in the hell did I tell you, Reaver?" Sparrow had his gun in his hand as well, aiming it directly at Reaver. The pirate stiffened, taking a step in front of Richard, even though he knew that the prince could take care of himself.

"You're going to have to be more specific, Sparrow. There are _lots_ of things you've said to me, many of which you probably do not wish me to repeat."

"_I told you to keep your hands off my son!"_

A shot was fired, the sound ricocheting off the walls and sending chills down Richard's spine. Another was fired seconds later, the second thundering sound twice as loud as the first, it seemed. When all the confusion had ended, Richard could see that Sparrow had aimed just slightly over Reaver's shoulder, Reaver returning the shot much the same.

"Who in the hell told you?"

"That doesn't matter, Reaver."

"It sure as hell does. I'll –"

"Both of you _shut up!_" Richard shouted at the top of his lungs, stepping between the two and outstretching his arms as if that could stop them. His gun was back in its holster and his glare was fixated on his father.

"Richard, stay out of this –"

"Like hell. I am not staying out of something that is _obviously_ about me. Now, listen Papa. I am capable of deciding who I want to be in a relationship with – I am fifteen years old, after all."

"Richard, you don't know what you're saying," Sparrow growled the words, begrudgingly lowering his gun. Reaver did the same, watching Richard carefully instead of locking glares with Sparrow.

"Don't I?" Richard turned completely to Sparrow, a glare of his own finding his features. He took a step closer to his father, anger and tension the only body language Reaver was able to read. "Stop treating me like a child, father."

"I am not –"

"Yes, you are. You say you want Logan and I to grow up, to know what this world holds for us both, but yet you will not allow us to go outside of our small shells. You have to let us explore, father. I know you don't want me with Reaver because of some past you two share together and personally I could care less about that. _I am not you_. I make my own choices – if they happen to get my heart broken, I'll suffer through it and handle it my own way," Richard's voice was dripping with authority and Reaver suddenly knew what everyone saw in him.

He could see the Hero he was meant to be and he could see the great things he was meant to accomplish. He was finally able to see everything he had been trying to hide for the past three months – he could see the true _adult_ Richard already was.

Reaver's eyes fell on Sparrow next, watching his expression closely. He could tell that the king was having much the same thoughts he was. He knew it would be hard for Sparrow to accept – his baby boy was growing up, after all. But he also knew now that the king had no way of holding him down. The king had no way to chain him to the castle and keep him there forever.

"I am your father, Richard. You are to obey my rules – if not as your father, then as your king," Sparrow's voice was cruel and cold, shocking both Richard and Reaver slightly. Richard rolled his eyes, smirking at the king's words. Suddenly, Richard lunged forward and shoved Sparrow against the wall, his arm nearly crushing the man's throat.

"You promised me three months ago that if I beat you in a fight, I would get to stay. So, let's see how everything turns out, old man," Richard growled the words, pressing harder against Sparrow's throat as he did so. He pushed away harshly, storming out the door before Sparrow could even regain his breath.

Silence fell between the pirate and the king. Reaver watched Sparrow silently, a thousand memories floating around in his head. He could see that the same was happening to Sparrow, maybe even some of the same memories.

Without saying a word, Reaver walked out of the room after Richard.

* * *

"Richard!"

The prince ignored Reaver shouting after him and kept walking towards the training field. He was angry, he felt betrayed, and most of all – he felt hurt. He wanted to tell his father himself, but instead he had found out by some servant. Now… Now things were just confusing and he didn't know what to do and –

"Richard, stop!" Reaver finally caught up with the teen and wrapped an arm securely around his waist. Richard fought against him for the briefest of moments before he felt Reaver's lips against his own. It was a short kiss and the moment the pirate pulled away, Richard broke down. He pulled himself closer to Reaver and started cursing and ranting in one fluid breath.

He started ranting about his father and how much he hated him. Reaver interjected with a "you don't really hate him" there. Then it was on to how could someone do this? How could someone tell his father about them – and everything was going to perfectly and now it was all ruined and he just didn't know what to do. And then there was a line of curse words in there, some of which Reaver was fairly certain the boy had invented.

"Are you done?" Reaver hugged the boy tightly, kissing the top of his head lightly. Richard gave a small nod, meekly pressing closer to the pirate. "Alright – number one, you do not hate your father. You may dislike him at this moment, but you can't hate him. He's your father and that always comes with a certain kind of love."

"Why are you being so reasonable?" Richard pushed away slightly and looked up to the pirate with emotional turmoil in his eyes. Reaver sighed and pulled the boy back into the hug, somewhat ignoring the comment.

"Trust me, I fully intend to go and kill something later; perhaps the servant who told on us – but no matter. You can't go and fight your father like this, Richard."

"And why not?" Richard pulled away completely and folded his arms across his chest as he leaned against the wall. Reaver leaned next to him, staring up at the ceiling at nothing in particular.

"You're irrational right now. You need to clam your head, figure out what your first move will be. We talked about this, remember?" They stayed in silence for a while longer before Richard let out a heavy sigh and laid his head against Reaver's shoulder.

"So what am I supposed to do?"

"Hope that he is not too mad about that stunt you pulled back there. What exactly _were_ you thinking?" Reaver nudged the boy a bit playfully, even if his words were still serious. Richard sighed and shrugged, trying to evade the question for as long as he could.

"That's not going to get me far. And you know me – I _wasn't_ thinking," Richard sighed the words, obviously displeased that he couldn't give a better answer. "What do I do, Reaver? Not just about father… what do we do about _this_?" Richard pushed away from their somewhat intermingled position on the wall, taking a step into the hall as his whole body seemed to coil with anger. He turned back to Reaver, staring at him for an answer – _any_ answer.

Reaver stayed silent, figuring that silence was better than saying something either of them could later regret. He figured that silence could speak louder than words – no, he _knew_ that silence spoke louder than words. He had experience firsthand how silence could jeopardize a relationship – he had had to live through it.

"I wish I could tell you the right answer, Richard. But the truth of the matter is that there is not a correct answer," Reaver looked away from Richard's blazing blue eyes, attempting to distance himself from the emotion he knew he would find there. "Your father and you will fight and we shall see where things go from there."

"I don't like that answer, Reaver."

"Generally, no one does, little one."

* * *

Adrenaline lined his arteries and he could taste each beat of his heart along his jaw. He could feel each muscle tensing in preparation and each joint bend at exactly the right place. He found his stance and let the nerves solidify in place.

This was it.

He would finally see where his life was headed, after all.


End file.
